Book of Days
by ladyshoes1
Summary: Hermione has lost everything to the Dark Lord. What will she do when she is given a second chance?
1. Prologue: The End

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**Disclaimer: **I don't own them. Never will. I've just taken them out for a walk and will put them back later. All hail JKR.

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**Prologue: The End**

Hermione ran as though the very Hounds of Hell were at her heels, although what was following her could easily be deemed far worse. She knew that if she stopped, even briefly, she would die. The pain in her side was crippling and she could hardly breathe, but if she could make it to the dungeon she might survive.

Because someone had to. And for all Hermione knew, she may be the only one left alive.

To say that they had been taken by surprise by Voldemort and his Death Eaters would have been a lie. They all knew that as long as they remained at Hogwarts they were painting themselves as targets. The truth was that they simply had nowhere else to go. She and her husband had been working frantically on a potion that might be able to protect them. It was a reflection on how desperate they were that they didn't even care _how_ the potion would complete this goal.

For months, Harry Potter and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix had been trying to find a location in which to hide. No matter where they went it was only a matter of days before Death Eaters discovered them. They knew there had to be a spy amongst them but every effort they had made to detect or deter the spy had failed.

As a last resort, Harry had left the rest of the Order behind. He had been moving around aimlessly for months, letting no one know where he had gone. In the mean time, Hermione and her husband had been working tirelessly to perfect what they had come to call the Latere potion. They had run across the potion during their research for the Order. According to the notes, the potion could send a person to a place where they would be free from all the dangers that plagued them in this world. The notes had been old and not all the ingredients were available anymore, so it had been months worth of experimentation.

But now time was out and Hermione prayed that their latest attempt had succeeded.

Harry had been forced to come out of hiding just two days ago. He had been injured in a duel and nearly dead when he showed up at the gates of Hogwarts. The school was one of the few safe places left in the wizarding world for Albus Dumbledore was still Headmaster. Coming to Hogwarts was a risk for Harry. He knew that it was constantly under surveillance and that he would be insuring a Death Eater attack upon the school when he arrived. In the end, he had only chosen to come because it was almost Christmas and all the students had been sent home.

As soon as he arrived, Dumbledore had started planning for the battle he knew would soon come to the gates of his beloved school. Even as the resident nurse tirelessly worked to heal Harry, Hermione and the others worked to protect the school and, more importantly, finish the potion that could save them.

Despite their preparations, the battle came all too soon. As the Death Eaters gathered outside the doors of Hogwarts the thirteen remaining inhabitants readied themselves for battle. Each of them, from Professors McGonogall and Flitwick to the ever-flighty Trelawney gathered behind Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter to fight what they knew would be the last stand against Voldemort and his followers.

Hermione had also stood with them, knowing it was the end of all things. As Dumbledore flung open the gates that guarded the school, she took one last look at her husband. She filled the look with all the love she had ever felt for him, praying he would understand. He had looked at her, emotions as blank as ever but she knew that he understood.

And then the battle began.

Forty Death Eaters against thirteen warriors of good.

The battle was over in eleven minutes. Surreally, Hermione knew this even as she watched Harry fall to the ground, dead at Voldemort's feet. At twelve minutes, McGonagall and Dumbledore were gone. At thirteen, her husband's body lay still.

She could watch the slaughter no more, and with three Death Eaters at her heels, she fled, towards the dungeons and her last hope.

She could feel the tears pouring down her face, the blood from the wound in her side leaking out her life. Still she ran, occasionally firing a curse or a hex blindly over her shoulder, praying it would hit one of her attackers. She had no time to mourn the death of everyone she loved, no time to curse the evil that had robbed her life of all meaning. She knew she had to survive, get away to warn the few Order members that still lived. And for that she needed the Latere potion.

Somehow she made it to her dungeon lab, freedom now within her grasp. The latest batch of potion had been completed mere minutes before the battle had begun but no one had been willing to use it then. Only now could Hermione even think of using the potion. She simply prayed that this time they had gotten it right.

Her hands slipped on the door handle to her lab, slick with her blood and that of her friends. Crying out in frustration she flung the door open-

Only to curse fate as she saw that the lab was already occupied by a figure in black. Standing between her and freedom was the last person she wanted to see. The arrogant posture, pale countenance and flaxen hair were instantly recognizable.

_Malfoy._

To be more precise, Lucius Malfoy. The man whom she had seen kill her husband mere moments before. If he had managed to get here before her it must mean that the wards protecting Hogwarts were gone. Not that it really mattered anymore.

Hermione shrieked, all the anger, sorrow and pain of the last few years ripped from her throat. Of all the cruel twists of fate this was the final straw. She slammed the door behind her and secured it. Then turning back to Malfoy she straightened herself, determined that he would not see her suffer further.

As though it were some great comedy to see the last defender of Hogwarts drenched in blood and battered nearly beyond recognition, Lucius smiled. "Hermione," he purred. "So good of you to join me."

Hermione snarled, rage building within her. She was a powerful witch and she wanted vengeance. If Lucius thought that confronting her would be easy he was in for a nasty shock. "Get away from that cauldron, you arrogant bastard!"

"My dear, must you be so boorish? And here I sought to give you one last chance to live. Was I in error to believe that you were intelligent enough to know when the battle was lost?" His tone was just as silky and mocking as ever. It only served to fuel her resolve.

"You have _nothing _to offer me, Malfoy, except maybe your pathetic life." she spat. "Now get away from that damn cauldron." She could hear the door behind her rattle alarmingly. Apparently her pursuers had arrived. She prayed that they would not realize that they could simply apparate into the room. She raised her wand and stared into Malfoy's slate-grey eyes. She blocked out the threat behind her as she stepped further into the room and towards him.

Lucius had still made no move towards his own wand. He seemed almost bored by her threat. He merely smiled, an unpleasant, mocking look upon his face. Almost absently he gestured towards the cauldron behind him. "If this is what you want then come and get it. What reason have I to stop you?" He regarded her as one might a dense child.

Hermione could hear the sounds behind her growing ever louder as the other Death Eaters sought to enter the room. Her wards were strong, but it was only a matter of time before they were defeated. She knew she would have only one chance to retrieve the potion. She also knew what game Malfoy was playing. Voldemort had no doubt sent him to take her alive but Malfoy needed only one excuse to kill her. Taking a deep breath, Hermione lowered her wand and stared at her adversary. She could see his slight surprise at her sudden acquiescence. The look was quickly replaced by true surprise as she launched herself at him bodily.

To his core, Malfoy was a pureblood and would never expect anything as crude as a physical attack. Hermione knew this and with all the energy she had left drove her body into his and towards the cauldron containing the Latere potion. Together they fell onto it, soon drenched in the sticky substance. She could feel Malfoy struggling beneath her; hear the door splintering behind her. Suddenly stillness seemed to settle over the room. Hermione could feel the potion tingling on her skin. Glancing down she could see that her skin was glowing, ever brighter. Malfoy flung himself away from her, furiously yelling to the Death Eaters that had entered the room. He pulled his wand now.

"_Avada_-"

And in a blaze of white light Hermione felt a lurch, almost like the familiar tug of a portkey. Color seemed to swirl around her and the light from her skin became blinding. The shocked look on Malfoy's face was the last thing she saw as she closed her eyes against the now brilliant light.

Only when the world finally stopped spinning and darkened around her did she dare open her eyes. Dizzily, she glanced around. She was still in her lab but there were no Death Eaters, no Malfoy. Numb, she sat on the floor, her mind frantically trying to understand the circumstances in which she now found herself. What had the potion done? Was she safe? These questions and more raced through her mind and threatened to overwhelm her.

So tumultuous were her thoughts that she never heard the door open behind her or see the man enter. Only when booted feet appeared before her did she stir. Eyes still full of the tears she had never truly stopped crying, she raked her eyes upward-

Only to see the face of a dead man.

Then blackness took her.


	2. Ch1: Brave New World

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Chapter 1: Brave New World

The air in the infirmary of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry shimmered with an ethereal light in the golden rays of the late afternoon. The atmosphere was still and quiet with a sense of peace that Hermione hadn't felt in many years. She had awoken minutes before to find herself alone, but healed, in a place she knew should be crawling with Death Eaters. Yet she felt safe enough. After all, if Death Eaters had taken her she doubted she would be safely bundled in a warm flannel nightgown and tucked into a comfortable bed.

On the other hand, it could be some kind of strange reverse psychological torture.

Hermione sighed. She could feel the stress of the last couple days in every bone in her body. She still couldn't bring herself to think about everyone she had seen fall in battle. Instead she clung desperately to the numbness her shock had created. Eventually she would need to get out of bed and find out what was going on but it was hard to move from the relative safety of her current position.

She looked around but couldn't see any other patients in the infirmary. In fact, it had a rather unused look to it, as though there hadn't been any injured through recently to create clutter. It was indeed a great contrast to how she had last seen the room. Due to the Dark Lord's increasingly violent attacks on the wizarding community, the infirmary had been starting to look ragged with nearly constant use. It was hard believe that Death Eaters had repaired the room simply to house her. Indeed, judging by her surroundings, her current predicament was becoming even more of a mystery.

Suddenly, Hermione heard the door at the end of the ward open. Craning her neck to look through the split in the curtain blocking her view she could make out the figure of a woman. Oddly enough, it appeared to be Madam Pomfrey, which would be impossible as she had been dead for two years. She was startled as the curtain was drawn back. Her shock increased as she could now clearly see the face to the nurse.

It was indeed Madam Pomfrey and she looked as flustered as Hermione felt. Clucking to herself she began to bustle around the bed only occasionally looking at Hermione disapprovingly and shaking her head. To say that it was disconcerting would be a major understatement. As it was, Hermione could only stare amazingly at the witch.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Madam Pomfrey turned her full attention on Hermione. She looked down at her, again with a disapproving air. "I will inform the Headmaster that you are awake," she began. "No doubt he will be down shortly to determine exactly who you are and what you are doing here." Her eyes searched Hermione's for a moment. She apparently did not like what she found because she simply huffed and walked into her office.

Hermione vaguely heard the office door slam as she pondered what the nurse had said. _Who I am?_ As though they didn't know. She also wondered if it was Albus who Pomfrey had been referring to as Headmaster. Was it possible that he too was alive? Closing her eyes against the tears that were threatening to spill, Hermione could feel the anguish at the loss of the man she had come to respect as a father welling up inside of her.

She could remember the look on the Headmaster's face moments before the battle began, resolve mixed with the realization of the hopelessness inherent in their situation. She had never before seen that look on his face and it had scared her then. Now it simply served as a reminder of her losses. She sobbed quietly as she thought about those who were dead. Harry's demise had been almost unbearable. Not only as he had been their last hope against the Dark Lord but that he was the last of her friends still alive. It was a painful reminder of the darkness into which their world had fallen.

The most excruciating death, however, had been that of her husband. She knew that the odds had been against them both surviving the battle but she had held on to hope until the very end. Her last shreds of hope for any of them had been ripped away with the Killing Curse cast by Lucius Malfoy. She sobbed in earnest now as the memory of her husband's dead eyes mocked her.

With a start another memory of those eyes surfaced. After the Latere potion had activated she had felt a lurch. She was beginning to remember now what had happened before she had awoken to find herself in the infirmary. The memory was fuzzy but she could clearly remember having looked up after the light around her had dissipated into the eyes that she knew so intimately. Did that then mean that her husband was alive?

She could hardly dare to hope. More than likely it had been a hallucination on her part. Or, she reasoned, she could actually be dead and stuck in the infirmary for the afterlife. All in all, not very cheery thoughts.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Hermione looked around again. Pomfrey hadn't exited her office yet and Hermione was beginning to wonder if the "Headmaster" would ever show. She didn't have to wait long as the entrance to the infirmary opened again. She stilled, daring not to look in the direction of the door, both anxious and terrified to see who had entered.

When the curtain by her bed was once again opened Hermione almost screamed her joy. Standing before her, looking healthier than she had seen him in years, was Albus Dumbledore. Although there was no twinkle in his eyes Hermione felt relief at his presence. Her momentary feeling of euphoria quickly dissolved as the Headmaster's face grew cloudy. Rare were the instances in which Dumbledore became truly angry but Hermione could tell this was one of those times.

Gazing on her with a look that Hermione had trouble categorizing, although she knew it couldn't be good, Dumbledore sat down in the seat beside her bed.

"Well," he began cautiously. "Perhaps you would care to tell me just who you are and how you came to be in the dungeons last night." His tone brooked no argument.

Flustered, Hermione tried to formulate a response. Her mouth opened several times as she tried to say what was on her mind but nothing escaped. Her confusion at his question was evident and she remembered what Pomfrey had said moments ago.

Dumbledore simply sat patiently as Hermione struggled. Finally she looked into his eyes. "I have no idea." Dumbledore, although surprised at her reply, still said nothing. She knew that by looking him in the eyes that he would be able to see the truth behind her words. He was, after all, one of the most gifted Legilimens in the world. "Rather," she continued. "I know how I came to be in the dungeons, but how I came to be there without Malfoy and his goons I do not know. And I know who I am. My question is this: why you don't seem to know?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath as he seemed to consider his response. "I must admit that I don't quite understand what you are saying. Why would Draco Malfoy be in the dungeons with you?"

Hermione looked at him sharply. "Not Draco. His father. Lucius Malfoy. And his Death Eater lackeys. They were in the dungeons with me. I…" She trailed off as she saw the confusion in his eyes grow. "Why do you look so surprised?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Lucius Malfoy and all known Death Eaters have been dead for years. What game are you playing?" She was shaken by his demeanour. What was going on here?

Shakily she replied. "I don't know what's happening here." She could feel tears streaking down her face from her grief and the stress of this situation. "This room," she gestured at the beds surrounding her. "It's not like I remember. Poppy has been dead for years and you…" Again her voice seemed to desert her. "I saw you die. You and everyone else I knew and loved died in the last battle." The last was said in a whisper as she glanced at him. "I don't understand any of this." She finally let herself dissolve into tears. She'd been strong for so long but could no longer fight her emotions.

Dumbledore let her cry for a few minutes. Eventually her sobs subsided and Hermione furiously scrubbed at her face in an attempt to clear her tears. Gently, he laid his hand on her shoulder. Surprise evident in her features, she hesitantly looked up at Dumbledore. She could see the gentleness in his features that, until now, had seemed only a memory. Her relief at the sheer _normality _of the look calmed her further.

"I'm afraid then that I am at as much a loss as you, my dear. I had thought you a threat to this school but I am beginning to see that you clearly are not. Still, I must ask, who are you?"

Closing her eyes, Hermione sighed. She took a moment to compose herself before looking into his familiar blue eyes. "I'm Hermione Snape."


	3. Ch2: We're Not in Kansas Anymore

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Chapter 2: We're Not In Kansas Anymore

Hermione was beginning to wonder if she was sane. She could see the look of utter and complete shock that had graced Dumbledore's face when she said her name. It was as though her really _didn't _know who she was. It had taken him a couple of minutes to absorb her words during which he simply stared at her as though seeing a ghost.

He finally seemed to come to some conclusion about her statement as he stood from the chair at her bedside. "What you have said here raises questions that I do not believe you are quite ready to answer at the moment. You are obviously very distraught and no doubt exhausted." Hermione snorted in agreement and Dumbledore smiled, the twinkle coming back into his eyes. "Well then, my dear, I will leave you here to rest. Please come to my office when you are feeling up to it. Do you know where it is?" She nodded. "Very well then. I do recommend that you use the less frequented corridors. The fewer people who see you the better. Hermione Granger is quite the famous figure of our history."

Hermione was nodding her compliance to his request when his last comment hit her. "What do you mean by history?"

He sighed. "I'm afraid it's a very long story, my dear. Still…" He paused, seemingly to consider whether or not to continue. "You may have noticed how surprised I was at your identity." Hermione nodded cautiously. "You must understand that I firmly believed you to be some kind of prankster when you were discovered in the dungeon, although the purpose behind your actions was a mystery. I can see now that you truly believe that you are Hermione Granger, or rather Snape as it were. That is a difficult thing for me to believe."

"Why?" she asked, even more confused.

"Because Hermione Granger has been dead for seven years."

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face at his statement. Her mind, which before now had been unforthcoming with any theory as to the circumstances she now found herself, began to work furiously. The Latere potion This had to be some kind of side effect. Had it sent her forward in time somehow? But no, that still didn't explain how Dumbledore and Pomfrey were still alive. Had it then somehow changed the past? She stopped the dizzying thoughts racing through her mind. "What year is it?" she asked quietly.

Looking at her oddly, the Headmaster replied, "The year is 2006." Her eyebrows furrowed as she ignored his quizzical look. The year was the same then, so she wasn't in some strange future and she knew that it was unlikely that a mere potion could change the past. Another question came to her. "I know you probably think I'm nutters, but is the Dark Lord still alive."

His countenance sharpened. "No, of course not. He died the same time you- Miss Granger died. Why do you ask?" His voice was suspicious.

"By the Gods," she muttered in disbelief. "What has happened to me? I'm beginning to think this isn't even my world, if that makes any sense. I suppose next you're going to tell me that Hagrid's been made Minister of Magic and that Neville Longbottom is a Potions Master." Dumbledore laughed quietly at her statement.

"No, never that, my dear. Arthur Weasley is in fact Minister of Magic and I believe last I heard young Mr. Longbottom was an herbologist."

Hermione glared at him as his eyes betrayed his mirth. "Fine. This is all a little… well, actually it's a lot- odd. So, what you're telling me is that I'm dead, a Weasley is Minister… and- did Harry Potter kill Voldemort?" He nodded an affirmative. She continued, "Well. This is all quite a bit to absorb. I think I do need to rest for a while. I need some time to consider what you have told me. I…" Her voice finally failed her.

"I understand. Say no more. I will see you when you feel up to discussing more." With another reassuring squeeze of her shoulder, he turned to leave. Hermione shrank back into the bed, her mind racing with all that she had been told. She knew that she desperately needed to discover exactly what the Latere potion had done to her. Certainly, she was safe. In fact, she hadn't felt as safe in years, but that didn't change the fact that she now appeared to be in a world that bore no resemblance to her own. Voldemort was dead; Albus Dumbledore was alive. With a start, she wondered how many other people were alive. Well, that was certainly something to put down on her ever-growing list of questions. For now, however, she could think no more and as her eyes drooped irresolutely shut her last thought was of a dark-eyed man.

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Severus Snape, Hogwarts Potion Master, former Death Eater and recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, had thought that he had see and heard it all. Apparently he was wrong.

_Or_, he reasoned, _Albus Dumbledore had finally gone off the deep end_.

"You mean to tell me that the woman I found in my office last night is none other than the Gryffindor know-it-all Hermione Granger?" Snape's disbelief was evident. "Don't you think that's perhaps not quite possible, Albus? As I recall, Miss Granger is quite dead, at least to my knowledge."

Dumbledore gave him a withering look. "I'm quite aware that Miss Granger died several years ago, Severus. I'm simply telling you that she believes herself to be Hermione Granger and, barring the chance that she is a phenomenal Occlumens, she is telling the truth insofar as she knows it." Wisely, he had omitted the fact that she had called herself Hermione _Snape_. He honestly didn't want to open that can of worms until he absolutely had to.

Snape was now gazing thoughtfully at a point over Dumbledore's head. The look on his face did not reassure the aging Headmaster, it in fact worried him to no end. "Perhaps," he began thoughtfully, "you should allow me to question her." Dumbledore groaned. He knew that by question Snape had in fact meant _interrogate_.

"That will be quite unnecessary, Severus." he said lightly. "She is quite willing to answer any question that I pose her. In fact, she seems to be as confused about this situation as we are. She claims that she is the last survivor of the Final Battle. She was quite surprised, I gathered, to find me alive. It's quite the conundrum."

Severus grew more surprised as the Headmaster spoke. "Sounds to me like she's simply an escapee from St. Mungo's. I saw Potter holding Granger's dead body, Albus. As did you as I recall. She…"

Dumbledore raised a hand to forestall any further comment. "I did indeed, Severus. But Pomfrey has compared her old medical records of Miss Granger to the woman in the infirmary. Hermione had several distinguishing marks due to her adventures here." He smiled as he remembered the escapades of the aptly named Gryffindor Trio. "Poppy tells me that this woman bears all of these markings. And you have to admit the physical resemblance is uncanny. I do not think we can simply discount the possibility that she is who she claims to be."

Snape knew that he was fighting a losing battle. If Dumbledore believed the young woman to be Granger, then he would be unable to reason with him. He would play along with this girl's game, though, until he could figure out the truth. Then he would expose her to the Headmaster. He may not have particularly liked the know-it-all chit when she was his student but he had respected her intelligence and sacrifice in the war. She had been one of the few casualties of the Final Battle and everyone knew how lucky they had been to escape relatively unscathed. Severus grudgingly had to admit that many lives had been saved due to Granger's sacrifice. She had been instrumental in devising the curse that Potter had used to kill the Dark Lord, but had truly saved the day when she threw herself in front of the Killing Curse that Lucius Malfoy had thrown at the Boy Who Lived.

Severus had been standing only feet away as he saw her give up her life for her friend. He still firmly believed that she had wasted her life for someone who didn't deserve it, but he could not deny that her actions had probably saved them all. He couldn't even begin to fathom what would have happened if Potter had died before he could defeat the Dark Lord.

Of course, Snape felt secure in the knowledge that he had avenged her death. The _Stupefy _that he had directed at Malfoy mere seconds after Lucius had delivered his Killing Curse had never felt so satisfying. It was one of the few moments that had made the last few years bearable. And his actions _had _earned him the Order of Merlin.

Yes, Snape decided, he may not have liked Hermione Granger but he'd be damned if he let someone make a sham of her sacrifice.

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	4. Ch3: Through the Looking Glass

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Chapter 3: Through the Looking Glass

Hermione awoke early the next morning after her conversation with Dumbledore with a terrible headache and a growing sense of unease concerning her predicament. There were so many confusing thoughts crowding her mind that she couldn't even begin to predict how the Latere potion had worked. However it had saved her, she now found herself, while out of danger, certainly still in a precarious position.

She didn't get any more time to analyze the situation as she found herself being hustled out of bed by the still belligerent Madam Pomfrey. The nurse declared her well enough to go see the Headmaster and Hermione didn't argue. As far as she was concerned, any excuse to get away from the dour matron was a good one.

Hermione soon found herself navigating the familiar, and yet decidedly _unfamiliar, _passages of the school. The differences between what she now saw and how she had last seen the halls were subtle. The halls were less tatty, cleaner as well. Her Hogwarts had been suffering from neglect. Many of the school's house elves had been killed in an assault on Hogwarts a few years earlier. The remaining elves had concentrated their duties on areas of the school that were more regularly used. As a result, there were many areas, such as the more remote hallways, that had become rather ragged.

The halls Hermione now found herself in were, while comfortably worn, very clean- obviously not neglected. It was just another observation to add to her growing list of differences. Hermione was now fairly sure that she had somehow been transported into what could only be termed an alternate reality. She, of course, had studied the theories behind alternate and parallel realities but had always found them to be somewhat far fetched. She found it hard to believe that there could be an infinite number of realities similar to her own. By that theory, it didn't matter how she lived her life, she was ultimately fated to live one path or another. If there was one thing that Hermione simply didn't want to accept it was that her life was dictated by some outside influence. She had to believe that she had some semblance of control- free will as it were.

However, with the facts before her, Hermione's opinion of those theories were starting to change. So far, that she had stumbled into an alternate world was the only explanation she could produce concerning her whereabouts. She certainly couldn't come up with any other way to account for Dumbledore and Pomfrey's presence.

Sighing, she lifted her chin and kept walking. She had always felt safe within its walls and had many happy memories of being there. In fact, it was the place that Severus had proposed to her, right after a major fight over her role in the war. She felt herself sober with the thought of her lost husband. Even if the eyes she had looked into the night she had been transported her had been Severus', it didn't change the fact that the man she had spent the last six years married to was dead. This Severus would never have even had the chance to fall in love with Hermione.

Hermione closed her eyes against the tears that again threatened to fall. She was sick and tired of crying. She had shed more tears in the last few days than she had in the last decade. She knew, logically, that she had every right to cry and generally feel sorry for herself, but anyone who knew Hermione Snape knew that she wasn't a woman who let her emotions get the best of her. Resolutely, she straightened her spine and resolved to stop snivelling like a first year Hufflepuff.

Scowling at the statue guarding the office, she realized that she didn't have the password. She could try to guess, assuming this Dumbledore was as fond of sweets as hers had been, but she didn't really feel up to it. Instead she tapped the statue and told it to inform the Headmaster that she was there. Most people didn't know that the statue actually served as Dumbledore's receptionist. As the stairs began to rotate, she smirked, a disturbing copy of one of her husband's most well known faces. Climbing on board she soon found herself in Dumbledore's office.

Hermione looked around, concurrently cataloguing both the similarities and the differences between what she knew the Headmaster's office to look like and what this one contained. The same scattered objects, some whirling brilliantly, others merely collecting dust, were in this office. Pictures of past Headmasters and mistresses were also the same. Clearly missing were the various maps and notes about the Dark Lord that had littered his office for the last couple of years. It was a clear indicator that, in this world, the Dark Lord was no longer a threat.

"Hello, my dear. How are you feeling this morning?" Dumbledore's eyes were sparkling and Hermione couldn't help but feel her spirits lift a little.

"Better. Thank you, Headmaster."

As he gestured for her to take a seat before his desk, he said, "Please, just call me Albus." She smiled and nodded, relieved that she didn't have to fall back on formalities that she had long ago dispensed with. As he stood to pour her a cup of tea he said, "Well, I had hoped that you would be able to enlighten me a little concerning your appearance here. Perhaps you could tell me what you think has happened."

Hermione took the cup and saucer from him as she gathered her thoughts. With hesitation, Hermione began. "I guess I should start at the beginning, or as far back as would be relevant. You had mentioned earlier that Hermione Granger had died seven years ago, correct?" Albus nodded. "Was that when the Dark Lord was defeated?"

Albus clasped his hands before him as he leaned back in his chair. "Yes. It was the day before graduation. Voldemort and the majority of his Death Eaters struck at the school with all their resources. They were aided by several students sympathetic to their cause. We were ready for the attack, however. I cannot tell you how lucky we were to have lost so few. I believe I told you that you were instrumental in designing the curse that killed Voldemort?" At her blank look her, he continued, "Ah, I see that I did not. You had been working for several months with Harry and young Mr. Weasley concerning a way to defeat Voldemort. A few days before Voldemort attacked, you had in fact succeeded in discovering a curse that would sever his soul from this world. Although we tried to discourage you, during the battle you fought along side Harry and Ron. You were killed when you stepped in front of a Killing Curse meant for Harry. You gave him the time needed to use your curse and kill Voldemort."

Hermione was shocked. She did remember having found such a curse while still in school, but they had never gotten a chance to use it. She could remember the attack on her school that Albus spoke of, but in her world they had had no warning. Over half the students and staff had been killed when the Dark Lord had attacked the day before her graduation, Ron Weasley among one of the first. Gravely wounded, she and Harry had been spirited away to 12 Grimmauld Place by the Order as the Death Eaters decimated the school. It was only pure luck that the Aurors had arrived in time to secure the school at all.

"I wonder if the attack you speak of wasn't the point in which our realities split." At Dumbledore's confused look, Hermione tried to explain. "The only theory that I have been able to come up with concerning my appearance here is that this is some kind of alternate reality to my own. Are you familiar with the theories concerning alternate dimensions?"

"Vaguely," he stated. "I believe I recall something about time lines being split due to certain circumstances."

Hermione nodded, launching into lecture mode. "It's one of the reasons Time-turners are so highly regulated. Whenever you change the past you create an alternate dimension according to theory. It's also hypothesised that major events or even major personal decisions can affect such a split." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "In your reality, you defeated the Dark Lord at the end of my seventh year. In mine, we were taken by surprise. Half the students and staff were slaughtered. As it was, Harry and I and a few others managed to escape, but the Dark Lord had already managed to cripple us. We've been struggling ever since, growing weaker every year as he chips away our defences. There were only thirteen of us left to defend Hogwarts when he attacked us the other morning. As far as I know I'm the only one that survived and only then by dint of using a potion that was meant to save Harry. By Hecate, if we only would have known that the Dark Lord was going to attack Hogwarts seven years ago we would be like you are now." Hermione was shocked by the realization that all she had suffered could have been prevented. She remembered that it had been Ron who had stepped in front of the Killing Curse meant for Harry. If she had been the one to do it maybe…

Hermione shook herself from her reflection as Dumbledore spoke. "Yes, I think I agree with your assessment. It's at the very least a theory we cannot discount." She raised her eyes to his, the seriousness in them riveting her. He pinned her with a piercing look as his eyes scanned hers. After a few moments he said, "Hermione, you cannot blame yourself for what happened in your world. No doubt it was something over which you had no control. Perhaps it is a testament to the capricious nature of fate that, in our world, you were one of the few casualties of the Final Battle, and that in yours, you were one of the few to survive." Dumbledore paused, his eyes distant. "Perhaps," he continued, "this is fate's way of setting things right."

Hermione sighed, guilt welling up inside her chest. His words had hit deeper than she could admit. "And why would fate feel it necessary to grant me such a bane? I hardly think cowardice warrants reward."

Dumbledore seemed startled by her words. "And why do you think yourself a coward?" he asked carefully.

Her eyes hardened as she looked into his no-longer twinkling eyes. "I fled! Left them there to die to save my own life. Now I wonder if I could have changed things years ago if I had just died then!" Hermione was screaming now, the fear and pain welling up inside her chest. Gasping, she tried to push down the feelings that had been threatening to overwhelm her again. When her breathing quieted she added in a small voice, "I failed them."

Dumbledore arose from his desk and made his way around to the chair next to Hermione's. He sat and the years seemed to weigh heavily on him as he regarded her. "Understand, Hermione, that what you did was neither cowardly nor wrong." She raised her red-rimmed eyes to his as he spoke. Holding her gaze with his own he continued. "From what you have told me you did all that you could, perhaps even more than was your burden. For that reason alone you should feel no shame." He held up a hand to quell her as she started to speak. "Had you stayed on that battlefield you would have died and it would have been little more than suicide. That you chose to live, to carry the memories of those who died with you, shows true courage." Taking her hand in his he looked into her eyes, trying to convey the truth behind his words. "To die a noble death is an easy road. Heroes and martyrs are always idolized for their roles in war. But for a hero to be recognized someone must survive to tell the tale. Do you know the courage it takes to be the one to do that, Hermione?"

Hermione felt a small sense of release at the Headmaster's words. She wasn't sure that she completely agreed with his assessment of her actions, but she found herself clinging to his words. Yes, someone did indeed have to survive for a hero's sacrifice to be worthwhile. She had fled the battle with the intention of warning others of their defeat. That she had been transported to this world was out of her control. It was hard to accept that they had actually lost the war. All their years of struggle, and they had still failed to defeat the Dark Lord.

To find that she had now been given a second chance, when everyone else who had fought just as hard as she had died, was a little much to digest. Could she go on living with the guilt of her survival? More to the point, did she really have a choice? Ultimately, she knew that she couldn't waste the chance she had been given. It would only lessen the sacrifice that her loved ones had made.

With a shaky smile, Hermione squeezed the Headmaster's hand. "You always did know what to say to snap me out of my maudlin fits. While it's still hard to accept, I understand what you are saying. I will try to live with what happened the best I can."

Smiling now, Dumbledore gave her hand a reassuring pat as he again rose. Taking his place behind his desk he said, "Yes. About that. You needn't worry about any mundane details for now. You will, of course, be given quarters in the castle. There are no doubt many people who would be interested to know that you are apparently alive and well, though I fear we will have a hard time explaining exactly how that came to be."

Hermione grimaced. "No doubt, as I have no idea how it happened myself."

"You had mentioned using a potion, correct?" At her nod he continued, "Then perhaps Professor Snape could be of some assistance to you."

Hermione looked at Dumbledore sharply, her eyes intense. "I don't think that's a good idea, Albus."

Dumbledore had the good grace to look sheepish. "I'm sorry, my dear. I wasn't even thinking. I understand it might be difficult for you to be around him now." After a pause he cautiously added, "In that same vein, perhaps it would be better if you didn't mention having been married to Severus."

Hermione felt a wave of despair wash over her. It was like losing her husband all over again. Now she wouldn't even have the comfort of being Mrs. Snape. She would have to be Hermione Granger, someone she hadn't been for a very long time. Looking down at the platinum band on her finger, she felt more alone than she ever had. She knew that she couldn't tell anyone of her marriage. Especially not Sev- Snape. With another start she also realized that she could no longer even call him Severus. This man was Professor Snape, a man who had never known her as anything other than a student.

A determined look crossed her face. It was a look she often got when struggling with something that didn't set well with her. Finally, with only a brief moment of hesitation, Hermione slipped the band from her finger. She winced at the tan line on her skin; she had never removed this ring after Severus had placed it on her finger. But he was gone now and she had to move on with her life.

She stood as she slipped the ring into the pocket of her robe. "I would like to retire if that's possible, Albus." The Headmaster looked at her gravely, the magnitude of her last action weighing heavily on him. He nodded sharply as he, too, stood.

"I have had the house elves prepare a room for you near Gryffindor tower. I assumed that would be acceptable." Hermione nodded. Although she had spent the last few years in Hogwarts' dungeon and felt most at home there, she grudgingly admitted that moving away from there would be the best way to separate herself from her old life.

"Well then," the wizard continued. "Let me show you to them so you can settle in. We'll need to deal with getting you clothes and other supplies tomorrow." Hermione realized with shock that she had no money or belongings to speak of here.

"How will I support myself, Albus? I don't have anything here. In fact, I can hardly believe that it will be easy to prove to the Ministry that I am who I say I am."

Albus nodded gravely. "Luckily Arthur should be most willing to assist us in that department. As for money, that will not be a problem." She looked at him quizzically. Dumbledore merely smiled. "There was a fund put together after the war to assist with the restoration efforts. Although the war is long over and we have rebuilt successfully the funds are still quite impressive. We will simply draw from that."

Hermione glared at the Headmaster, reminding him of Severus. "With all due respect, I will not accept charity."

"Indeed. I suspected that you would not. It's not strictly charity though. When you- Miss Granger rather- died she had no family left. The funds in her Gringott's account were simply added to the restoration fund. We all thought it would be something of which she would have approved. So, in reality, we will simply be returning to you what is yours already."

Hermione was still indignant with the prospect but realized that she really had no choice. She would accept the money but return as much as she could to the fund when she could support herself. She was sure that as a Potions Mistress she would have no trouble finding employ. Of course, there was the small matter that technically Hermione Granger was dead; this fact would make it difficult to prove her credentials. Then again, perhaps a job would become available at Hogwarts. She had been teaching potions at the school for the last few years after Severus had been offered the DADA position. It wouldn't be nearly as difficult to prove her abilities to Dumbledore as it would be to a complete stranger. Regardless, it was rapidly becoming clear that she was going to need all the help she could get to start her new life.

A/N: Thanks to my wonderful beta sophierom. More to come soon!!


	5. Ch4: You Must Be Joking!

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Chapter 4: You Must Be Joking!

Lucius Malfoy was furious. Beyond furious actually. The last thing he remembered was that damn Snape woman flinging herself at him like some kind of deranged harpy, throwing them both against the cauldron he had been blocking. He had been covered in the viscous fluid just as she had. Angrily, he had decided to forego trying to capture the woman like Lord Voldemort had instructed. She deserved to die just like the rest of Hogwarts' pitiful defenders. Then before he could even finish his curse she had disappeared in a flash of blinding light. Still reeling with the shock of what had happened, Lucius had barely noticed when his own skin had started to glow.

Now, Lucius found himself standing in what he vaguely recognized to be the foyer of his own manor. If that was indeed where he was, though, his house elves were going to pay dearly. Every piece of furniture and all of his pictures and tapestries were covered in dust clothes. The house looked like it hadn't been lived in for years. Lucius started to get the niggling feeling that something was amiss. He had apparated from this very spot a few hours earlier and it hadn't looked anything like this.

"Reely!" he called loudly to his house elf. He glanced around, expecting the creature to appear immediately. When it did not he yelled again, calling out the names of his other servants. After a few minutes he knew that he wasn't going to get an answer. This house was deserted.

Lucius pulled out his wand. Pushing up his sleeve he touched it to the tattoo on his left forearm and whispered the spell that would allow him to contact the Dark Lord. Shockingly, nothing happened. Lucius then tried to apparate using the Dark Mark. When that failed he became more suspicious. It had to be something that Snape woman had done. Maybe something to do with that potion she had pushed him into. He knew he should have killed the little bitch when he'd had the chance. She would pay for toying with him in his moment of triumph.

Out of contact as he was, Lucius decided against apparating back to Hogwarts. Call it instinct, but he got the feeling that there was more to this situation than met the eye. He would need to be cautious until he knew what that potion had done to him. Casting a Disillusionment charm to blur his more salient features, Lucius decided to go to Knockturn Alley. He needed information and there wasn't a better place to get it than there. Then, once he knew what was going on, he would find Mrs. Snape and make her pay.

hr /hr 

The quarters Dumbledore had given her were airy and comfortable. They were also hideously overdone in red and gold. Grimacing, Hermione brandished her wand, happy that the Headmaster apparently trusted her enough to give it back, and quickly set about charming the decorations to more muted colours. Even as proud a Gryffindor as she was, she and Severus had long ago decided to go the middle ground concerning decorating. Their quarters had been a soothing mixture of neutral and earthy colours that Hermione found herself missing immensely. Finally, after about ten minutes of judiciously applied charms, her quarters began to look more acceptable.

The rooms were small, as would befit a single person. There was a tidy den with several bookshelves (unfortunately empty) and a cheerfully crackling fireplace. Hermione had transfigured one of the chairs into a loveseat as she preferred more room to spread out. There was also a small desk in the corner that she was sure she would be using intensely while researching the Latere potion. She wondered if she would have as much difficulty finding resource materials in this world as she'd had in her own. She doubted it. The Dark Lord had been the one to destroy many of the important texts over the years. Seeing as he had been defeated so early on here, many of those texts had probably survived. She would need to speak with Albus concerning her research needs.

Satisfied with the changes she had made to the den, Hermione moved into the bedroom. There was still an overabundance of red and gold but she could deal with that later. She was tired and the décor wouldn't really bother her while she was sleeping. On the upside, the bathroom was already done in neutral colours so there wouldn't be a need to change anything. With another flick of her wand, Hermione set a bath to running. Sighing, she turned her attention to the mirror above the sink. She studied her reflection acutely. The stress of the past few years was written clearly upon her face. Dark circles under her eyes bespoke of many sleepless nights; the gauntness in her cheeks betrayed her irregular eating habits.

She looked critically over her figure as she disrobed. She had several scars running down her too thin frame from duels she had stumbled into throughout the years. At twenty-three years old her body had seen more abuse than it should have. As, her hands traced the faint scar on her side from the battle, Hermione acknowledge that she was lucky to be in as good a shape as she was. Madam Pomfrey had healed her wounds from that day, leaving her looking no worse for wear.

She winced as she directed her gaze upwards to the bushy mess that was her hair. She had done nothing more than run a brush through it in days and it was suffering for it. Quickly, Hermione turned from her reflection and stepped into the bath. Her reminiscences had brought up a memory of her husband's complete infatuation with her hair. He had always marvelled over its body and wildness, constantly degrading his own limp locks by comparison. Hermione had always laughingly told him that she would be glad to trade with him. She could still remember the time he had wrestled her to the bed as she laughed hysterically at the thought of her dark husband with a head of raucous brown curls. Hermione smiled at the thought as she relaxed into the water but quickly sobered even as the stress of the past few days left her body. Every happy memory that she had of her past was eclipsed by a dozen painful ones.

Tiredly, Hermione set about washing her hair. The day was still early and she was resolved not to waste any of it in mourning. She was now almost completely sure of her alternate reality theory; what she couldn't come to terms with was how the Latere potion had been able to transport her. Hopefully, she would be able to find a copy of the manuscript in which she had originally found the potion. Most of her early studies had been done in haste with Severus constantly standing over her shoulder. They had been desperate for anything that could save Harry, so when they stumbled upon the Latere potion they hadn't questioned how it would work. Nor had they been particularly worried about the fact that the notes they had were incomplete. She hoped she would be able to uncover more complete notes concerning the potion's properties in this reality. Briefly she toyed with the idea of returning to her own reality if she could replicate the potion, but quickly set aside that idea as she remembered that she had nothing to go back to. Even if she could return to warn the others of their defeat, they would still be unable to change anything. There were less than a dozen members of the Order still living; she simply had to hope that they had been able to disappear and stay safe.

The idea of defeat simply didn't sit well with Hermione, but she was quickly beginning to learn to live with it. No, she wouldn't return home even if she could. She knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Albus was right. She had to live so that the sacrifices the others had made would have meaning. Moreover, she got the feeling from a few remarks that Albus had made that there were many here who would be thrilled with the idea of seeing her alive again. Certainly, Hermione was delighted at the prospect of seeing Harry, Minerva and the others alive, and even more importantly, happy. The prospect of seeing Ron almost sent her into another crying jag. He had been dead for so long, and Hermione was overwhelmed at the idea of seeing him alive and well. She wondered idly what kind of adult he had grown to be and if he was married or had children.

Unfortunately, thoughts of seeing her friends brought her back to the rather perplexing challenge of how she was going to deal with one Severus Snape. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to deal with her husband as one might a stranger. _Of course, _she reminded herself firmly_, he's not your husband. _She wondered if he was the same bitter man that she had known as a student. Her Severus, while still as sarcastic and volatile as ever, had softened during his marriage to her. She had been witness to gentleness and warmth in him that, truth be told, she was glad no one else had ever seen. Now she would have to figure out how to deal with this man who served as a constant reminder of her loss. Sensibly, she figured it would probably be for the best if she simply tried to avoid and ignore him.

Relaxed, clean and hair suitably under control, Hermione hauled herself out of the bathtub and began to get ready. She found the wardrobe in the bedroom stocked with a few nondescript items of clothing. She picked out a simple dark green jersey dress and slipped a non-descript black robe over it. With a quick drying charm to her hair she headed out her door to the library.

Heeding the Headmaster's warning concerning being seen, Hermione kept to the shadows of the now empty halls. She figured she was safe enough what with most of the students absent due to the holiday, and she should be able to avoid anyone else by staying to the more remote corridors. Upon reaching the library, Hermione was relieved to seethat the hawk-eyed Madam Pince was not at her desk. She quickly gathered a few choice tomes and settled herself into a quiet corner. She hoped that Albus would reveal her identity sooner rather than later simply so she wouldn't have to sneak around to do her research. She could deal with the backlash of having her identity revealed if it meant a chance to start her new life here.

Hermione soon forgot all about her problems as she began to research. Occasionally, she would mutter and proceed to scribble something on the parchment in front of her. She was so deep into her research that she didn't notice the occasional student moving around the library throughout the course of the day. Unfortunately, she also didn't notice the figure in black that watched her surreptitiously. Finally, she was roused from her studies by the change in lighting from the windows above her. She was a little shocked to realize that it was evening already. Hermione sat back with a small groan, muscles sore from hunching over the books. Standing she glanced around to make sure was no one was in the area. Seeing nobody, she gathered up her reading materials and took them over to the cart for Madam Pince to shelve.

Hermione turned to leave, but suddenly got the feeling that she was being watched. She paused, glancing around the empty room. She tried to shake off the feeling as nerves but found that she simply couldn't. Instead, she decided that it would be best if she just went back to her rooms. As she turned to go, she found herself face to face with darkness.

Or rather, the cloth covered chest of Severus Snape. Startled, Hermione backed up a couple of steps, raising her eyes to look at his face. She was a little disconcerted as she noted the menacing look there; he clearly wasn't happy to see her.

"Did… did Albus send you to find me?" she asked tentatively. Snape merely raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her question.

"_Albus _is it? You seem terribly familiar with the Headmaster, Miss…?"

"Sn-Granger." Hermione snapped. "I'm sure _Albus _has told you about my circumstances." She was growing quickly irritated at his attitude. She intimately knew exactly what he was trying to do. This Snape may not be her husband, but she bet that they were similar enough that she could see right through him.

"Yes," he sneered, sensing her aggravation. "He's told me all about your ridiculous theories. I don't believe them for one second and I certainly don't believe that a potion was responsible. You know, you really should have determined if there was a Potions Master around before you used that particularly idiotic lie."

Hermione refused to be goaded by the man standing in front of her. She could tell that he simply meant to protect the Headmaster and the school from any potential harm. His suspicious nature unfortunately meant that he wouldn't be nearly as willing to believe her as Dumbledore had. Calmly, she responded, "Whether you believe me or not is irrelevant. I had hoped that I would be able to ask for your help investigating the potion. I can see now that you aren't the least bit interested. I appreciate your concern for the school, but I assure you that I'm no threat. I would suggest if you have any concerns about my presence here that you take them up with the Headmaster. Now, if you will excuse me…" Hermione sidestepped him and again moved toward the library door. Before she could get to it she found her arm held in an iron grip.

Snape nearly growled as he held her in place. He towered over her, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. She felt her own body reacting to his familiar nearness, and it was all she could do not to simply curl into his side and stay there forever. She hastily pushed away her desires. Her husband was dead; it didn't matter how like him this man was. She simply couldn't replace one with the other. Strengthening her resolve, Hermione fought in vain to wrench her arm away. Snape merely squeezed tighter, leaning forward till they were nearly nose-to-nose. "Don't for one minute think that you have me fooled. I don't know what you suspect this little charade will accomplish, but I won't let you make a fool out of the Headmaster." Hermione couldn't help but gasp at the vehemence in his words. He roughly released her and she stumbled, suddenly overbalanced. He gave her another scathing look as he reached toward the door handle. "I will be watching you, Miss _Granger_." With that statement he melted into the darkness, leaving Hermione reeling from the intensity of his attack.

"Well," she said to the empty room. "That certainly complicates things."


	6. Ch5: Have We Met Before?

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Chapter 5: Have We Met Before?

Over the next few days, Hermione fell into a comfortable rhythm. She would usually have tea with Albus, who would update her concerning his efforts with the Ministry. She could still recall the rather emotional floo call with Minister of Magic Arthur Weasley. Although he had been suspicious of her identity at first, by the end of the call both she and Arthur had been blubbering helplessly. She did have to admit that she felt better for having seen him. Her Arthur had died during that first attack on Hogwarts seven years ago, and she had missed him dreadfully. Dumbledore had seemed pleased at Arthur's reaction to seeing her alive, but had admonished him not to tell anyone of her presence until he had cleared her identity with the Ministry. Crestfallen, Arthur had reluctantly agreed with the Headmaster's suggestion. He then assured Hermione that he would have her "alive and well" in no time. Hermione still wasn't sure how Albus and Arthur intended to explain her sudden appearance, but allowed herself to be mollified when both men assured her that they had the situation well under control.

The rest of her days were spent researching the Latere potion in the library while scrupulously trying to avoid Snape. She had informed Dumbledore that she needed to get a hold of the manuscript concerning the Latere potion. She had a few suspicions about where he could find a copy, and he had quickly sent out several requests to expedite the matter. Hopefully, the Headmaster's connections would be able to secure a copy soon. Although she had made significant progress on her research concerning alternate realities, she wouldn't be able to make any headway on the potion without the manuscript.

Of course, her research would have benefited from an attempt to recreate the potion, but she didn't dare go near the dungeon. One occasion of having Snape breathing down her neck was more than enough. She did not want to deal with him if she didn't absolutely have to.

On the upside, she was coming to terms with her grief. For the first couple of nights she had cried herself to sleep, awaking to find her eyes puffy and glued together. Now, after almost a week since that fateful battle, she was starting to get control of her emotions. She still dreadfully missed everyone, especially Severus, but she was determined to start living this new life to the fullest. It was what Severus would have wanted her to do. Of course, seeing Snape lurking around every corner was putting a dint in her efforts, but she had resolved to ignore him- what else could she really do? She'd be relieved when the hols were over and classes would distract him.

Now, a week after her arrival, Hermione found herself getting ready to take her first jaunt outside the castle walls. She had been hesitant to do so before now, mostly due to old fears that she couldn't shake. In her world, leaving Hogwarts meant risking a Death Eater attack. It was strange to think of having complete freedom to do as she wished. Perks of a Dark Lord-free world, she guessed.

Her venture outside the walls had a purpose. Although Christmas had come and gone with little notice from Hermione, she still felt a need to get the Headmaster a gift. In truth, she had desperately tried to ignore the Christmas cheer around her. She had only been at Hogwarts for two days when the holiday arrived and had spent the majority of Christmas Day holed up in her room frantically trying not to collapse under the weight of her grief. So, with only two days until the New Year, Hermione was determined to steel herself against any further sniveling and bravely begin her new life with the advent of a new year.

So, in celebration of her resolution, Hermione wrapped herself up in a cloak that she had transfigured from one of the robes in her wardrobe and decided to take a walk into Hogsmeade. In addition to her gift for Albus, Hermione was also in desperate need of some new clothing. She hadn't been shopping as of yet, and her transfiguration skills had been stretched to the limit over the last few days. The few items of clothing that she had found in her wardrobe when Albus had first shown her to her rooms were starting to look a little threadbare from the constant charms she placed on them. Albus had recently graced her with a rather large bag of galleons- far more than she really felt comfortable accepting. The wizard had ignored her protestations, firmly pointing out that she needed it, a fact that Hermione really couldn't argue with. She could feel the sizeable purse jangle at her side as she made her way to Hogwarts' front gates.

As she approached the gates, Hermione felt a sense of unease settle over her. It was a beautiful, bright sunny day, but Hermione still felt as though a shadow had fallen over her. The last time she had been at those gates they had opened to reveal the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. While she logically knew that wasn't going to happen to her today, the anxiety she felt simply wouldn't lessen.

Still, she had been working herself up to this point for the past few days, and she refused to let her nervousness derail her plan. Pulling her cloak tighter, Hermione lifted her chin and stepped through the gates. Once outside she immediately tensed, coiled against the attack she was sure would come. When none was forthcoming, she finally allowed herself to relax infinitesimally.

The sun was glinting off the walls of the castle, and, while still cold, the brisk air was surprisingly refreshing. She set out towards Hogsmeade, determined to enjoy the day. Surprisingly, especially considering where the school was located, there was no snow on the ground to impede her progress, so Hermione soon found herself cresting the hill into Hogsmeade.

Both she and Albus had agreed that the likelihood of anyone recognizing her in Hogsmeade was slim; still, Hermione had allowed herself the comfort of a small disguise. She had spent most of the morning taming her hair reasonably flat, and had glamoured her eyes a light blue. The changes were subtle, but she hoped they would be sufficient enough that if anyone did recognize her, they would simply pass it off as coincidence. Looking around the small village, she briefly entertained the thought of stopping by Zonko's but quickly discounted the idea. Albus had mentioned something about the Weasley twins trying to buy out old man Zonko, and she didn't want to risk running into them. Instead, she headed towards Gladrags.

Stepping inside the small robe store, Hermione allowed herself a moment to warm back up. She then methodically set about choosing a few items to complete her wardrobe. Several items of undergarments and warm nightclothes were added to her ever-growing pile. The sales witch quickly helped her choose a couple pairs of shoes and slippers. Hermione was heading to the counter to settle up when her eye was caught by a glimpse of green velvet. She turned to find a gorgeous set of dress robes on the rack beside her. They were a dark, forest green with Celtic stitching. The first piece was a dress with a corseted bust with a fairly low neckline. The neckline and hems were stitched with Celtic runes in silver thread.

The matching robes were of the same rich velvet material as the dress and seemed to flow with a life of their own. Hermione was immediately entranced with the set; they reminded her of a set that Severus had purchased for her on their second anniversary. Hesitantly, she reached for the price tag, only to be pleasantly surprised to find that the price was only 45 galleons.

A little shocked to see such a low price on such a gorgeous set, Hermione gestured for the sales assistant. "Is this price correct?" she asked the woman.

"Yes, indeed. That was a special order that was never picked up. Our seamstress put it out this morning in a pique of aggravation. If you want it, I would suggest you grab it up before she changes her mind." Hermione was no fool and quickly handed the set to the sales witch to add to her purchases. She settled her bill and shrunk her packages. Tucking them into her pocket, she thanked the sales witch and stepped outside. A quick glance at the sun told Hermione that she still had a full day ahead of her. She was considering taking a brief stroll around the town when eyes fell on Dervish and Banges.

It had been a long time since Hermione had had the chance to indulge her love of books. The Dark Lord had long ago realized that he would need to destroy any avenues that the Order could take to gain the upper hand. One of his first moves had been to demolish the wizarding world's bookstores. If the Order couldn't find any information, he assumed they wouldn't be able to discover some grand curse or potion to destroy him. But in this world, she could have any book she desired. Hermione was soon entranced by the myriad of titles in the stacks before her, and, although she had intended to limit herself to books only concerning her current topics of research, she found herself grabbing books concerning all sorts of topics.

Several hours later, Hermione made her purchases. She had settled on a dozen books, including a Muggle book of nursery rhymes for Albus, which she had requested be floo'ed to Hogwarts via the Headmaster's office. She had to briefly shield her eyes as she stepped out into the afternoon sun; the store had been particularly dim. Not up to heading back to Hogwarts quite yet, Hermione decided to head to The Three Broomsticks. She was feeling a bit peckish and a butterbeer sounded fabulous.

She was soon settled comfortably at a secluded corner table. She ordered a butterbeer and a bowl of stew and soon tucked into her meal. Her thoughts a million miles away, Hermione never noticed the flame-haired witch a couple of tables away seated with a rather unassuming young man in his mid-twenties. Unheeded by Hermione, they frequently cast glances her way, the woman whispering furiously to her companion.

After only a few moments, the woman stood. The man tried to drag her back to the table, but soon found himself following her to Hermione's table.

Hermione was startled when the couple occupied the chairs in front of her. She stared at them for a moment, a feeling of unease settling in her chest. Although it had been many years since she had seen either of them, Hermione quickly recognized Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley.

"I'm sorry," Ginny began. "I don't mean to be rude by interrupting you, but you seem so familiar to me." Her tone was light but Hermione felt warning bells erupt in her head. The Ginny in her world was a Death Eater, one of the Dark Lord's most loyal servants. Could this Ginny be trusted?

Hermione willed herself to remain calm as she coolly replied, "You must be mistaken. I'm new to this area; I've never even visited this tavern before." It was, in essence, the truth.

Neville offered his apologies, clearly embarrassed at having interrupted her. "Come on, Ginny." he said. He tried to rise to leave, but was pulled back down by the red-haired witch. Hermione had to stifle a grin. She may be in a different world, but this Neville appeared to be just as shy and unsure of himself as the one she had known.

Ginny was speaking again. "I don't think so, Nev. I recognize this woman. I know I do." She was looking at Hermione with a piercing gaze when suddenly she pulled out her wand. "_Finite Incantatem_."

Hermione gasped as the glamour that had been disguising her eye colour faded. She leapt to her feet, causing the chair she had been sitting in to fall to the floor with a loud clatter. Ginny looked triumphant as she turned back to Neville. "I told you, Neville. I told you it was Hermione! Look at her! She's the bloody spitting image of her." Neville was now gaping openly at Hermione as well, his face white with shock.

"I…uh. I… How are you…" He didn't appear to be able to formulate a coherent sentence but that wasn't really a problem as Ginny appeared to be more than willing to make up for his failing.

"I knew it was you! Just how? Hermione, you have to tell me how you came to be here." By now the entire tavern was riveted by the scene being played out in front of them. Suddenly, Hermione felt a firm grip at her elbow and glanced up to see the stern visage of Severus Snape. She gave him a weak smile; for the first time since she'd arrived in this reality, Hermione actually felt relieved to see Snape.

In the meantime, Ginny had shut her mouth, surprised to see her ex-Professor. Neville had a look of complete horror on his face and, against all reason, had faded to an even paler shade than he had previously been.

"I think that is quite enough, Miss Weasley," Severus spat. "You have managed to make quite the scene here." With a glare around the tavern that soon convinced its occupants to go back to their own business, he turned his attention on Hermione.

"I suppose you are quite pleased with yourself. Your little stunt has attracted quite the publicity."

Hermione would have exploded if not for the lingering sense of gratitude she felt for the man's presence. Instead, she glared at him sternly. "I'm not the least bit interested in what you assume I was trying to do. I do however think that we should take this discussion elsewhere." With a pointed look at the now gaping Ginny and Neville, she continued in a whisper to Snape, "We should take this to the Headmaster's office."

She could tell that he intended to object until he noticed the patrons of the bar again looking interested in the drama. Curtly, he nodded. "Mr. Longbottom, Miss Weasley. If you would be so kind to accompany us to Hogwarts." Hermione snorted at the condescension in his voice, earning her a pointed glare from the man in question.

Ginny and Neville looked at each other briefly before nodding faintly. Neville and Hermione went to the bar to pay their tabs, and soon all four were heading towards Hogwarts in a tense silence.

Hermione could feel Ginny and Neville's eyes drilling into the back of her head as they made their way down the path from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. Hermione found herself walking beside Snape, her gate easily matching his familiar rhythm. She really didn't want to take this to the Headmaster, but it had been a convenient excuse to get them out of the tavern. She glanced at Snape as she began to speak quietly, "I don't really think we need to bother the Headmaster with this. We should probably just send Ginny and Neville on their way."

His gait faltered only slightly as he glared her way. "You would want to keep this from the Headmaster, wouldn't you. You should have to answer to him concerning your actions."

Hermione stopped, startling the couple following her. It took Snape a few steps to notice that she wasn't standing next to him anymore. He slowly turned to look at her, expression bland.

"Look, I have had about enough of you dodging my every step and dropping your little insinuations at my feet. If you don't believe my story, fine! But I am here with the Headmaster's approval. That, _at least_, should convince you that you have no reason to suspect me of anything." Hermione was furious and not the least bit afraid to let Snape know it. She hadn't been married to Severus for nearly six year without learning how to give him back a bit of his own.

"You little…" he began, face thunderous.

"No!" Hermione shouted, Neville and Ginny forgotten. "I'm sick of dealing with your games. No doubt you followed me to Hogsmeade in hopes of revealing my dastardly plan. Well, get over it! There isn't one. I told you before: If you have a problem with me then you can take it to Albus." She was standing nearly flush with the Potions Master now, her chin tipped defiantly. Although he was a head taller than she, Hermione's fury made her seem the taller of the two.

Snape and Hermione, neither willing to back down, never noticed as Ginny and Neville surreptitiously slipped away. Power was crackling between the two, their furies equally matched. Finally, after a short eternity, Snape stepped back. Hermione's face only briefly showed her surprise but soon grew cloudy again as he spoke.

"Very well. I can see that you are completely unwilling to let go of your little game. If that is how you wish to proceed…"

"Why can't you simply believe that I am who I say I am?" Hermione was exasperated.

Snape sneered. "Because I was there when Miss Granger died." She thought she saw a look of pain cross his face but quickly dismissed the idea as his sneer reasserted itself.

Hermione relented. "I'm sorry. I didn't come here to hurt anyone. Hell, I didn't even mean to come here, period. But I'm not lying." She looked directly into his eyes, daring him to utilize his Legilimency against her. She sighed as his face remained impassive. "Fine. I can see that you aren't going to believe me short of my testimony under Veritaserum, _which_," she asserted as he opened his mouth to speak, "I will not submit to."

Hermione looked up to the darkening sky, suddenly feeling very tired. She couldn't stand to be at odds with the man standing in front of her. It was too much like being in conflict with her husband. Somehow, she had to gain his trust if she was to continue to remain at Hogwarts.

She looked back to Snape, trying to decide how he was dealing with her explosion. He was gazing at her with a faintly disturbing look, but he didn't seem like he was going to hex her to oblivion. She started to say something when he cut her off.

"Don't think that your little outburst is going to change anything," he said curtly. "I don't trust you and I will continue to watch you until I find out who you really are." His eyes were icy.

Hermione sighed, too drained to continue fighting with him. "Then I guess there's nothing more to say," she said after a few moments. "Good night, Professor." Hermione turned to leave, tears of frustration starting to well in her eyes. To add insult to injury, she noticed that Ginny and Neville were gone. She didn't want to think about what would result from their discovery of her.

Hermione was so distracted with visions of Ginny Weasley outing her to the world, that she never noticed Snape watching her leave, an unfathomable look in his eyes. Nor did she hear his slight sigh and whisper of "Good night, indeed."

A/N: A big thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. Hope you're enjoying the story so far, next chap should be up this weekend. A big round of applause to my wonderful beta-reader, sophierom!


	7. Ch6: When Weasleys Attack

****

Chapter 6: When Weasleys Attack

Lucius watched dispassionately as the body he had recently been strangling slid to the ground. Another informant, another absurd story about the Dark Lord's defeat at the hand of Potter. Everywhere he went he was tortured with preposterous tales of a great battle that took place seven years ago in which his Master had been defeated by that… that child! Even worse were the stories drunken bar companions had told him of his own death by Dementor's Kiss. Ridiculous!

Eight days he had been trapped in this hellish nightmare. Eight days that he had been forced to live like a beggar when he should be celebrating his Lord's victory. He had briefly entertained the thought of apparating to Hogwarts but had squashed the idea when someone had informed him that the school would soon be swarming in do-gooders for Albus bloody Dumbledore's New Year's bash!

To say that Lucius was irritated would be a major understatement. His normally unruffled appearance had been ruined by too many nights spent slumming in Knockturn Alley and not enough chances to shower. When he had attempted to return to his manor he had found himself blocked by external security wards. Wards on his own home, designed to keep him out! When he discovered who dared have the audacity…

Lucius flicked a cold eye over the rapidly cooling body lying before him; strangling the man had been oddly satisfying, much more so than a simple curse would have been. He stooped down and gingerly lifted the man's wallet from his pocket. _Lucius Malfoy, reduced to scavenging_. The very thought sickened him. _Hmm, interesting_, Lucius thought. Gregory Goyle. He vaguely recalled the name from Draco's days in school. Wasn't he always hanging around with that Crabbe boy? Satisfied that he was correct, Lucius headed to the owl post office to learn of young Crabbe's whereabouts.

And then, he would deal with Hermione Snape.

New Year's Eve settled in with a bout of snow. Not enough to impede travel, which pleased Albus, not to mention Hermione, to no end; the Headmaster would have been insufferable if he had had to cancel his party. Hermione gazed out her window at the pleasant dusting that had settled over the grounds. She shivered a little as she laid her head against the window. It was early morning and she was still dressed in her nightgown. She'd only slept a little that night. Thoughts of her last encounter with Snape had made it nearly impossible to sleep. He was so cold, so immovable. Just like her husband had been before they were married.

With a small grimace, Hermione shook herself from her reverie. It wouldn't do to dwell on the man. She would only serve to work herself into a tizzy. Instead, she turned to her desk where several of her new books were laid out. She had retrieved her purchases from the Headmaster's office yesterday during her tea with him. He had questioned her nosily about her trip into Hogsmeade; Hermione suspected Snape had already told him all about it. As it was, Hermione gave him a few details that seemed to mollify him. He had then quickly set about obtaining her promise to attend the New Year's party and, eventually, Hermione had relented. She figured that the gathering would be as good a venue as any to reveal her arrival. After the run-in with Ginny and Neville in Hogsmeade, she figured it wouldn't be prudent to wait much longer.

Hermione lingered at her desk momentarily to choose a book. Finally settling on _Which World? A Guide to Alternate Universes_,she settled into her loveseat. She'd been reading for only a few minutes when she heard a tap on her window. Startled, her eyes sought out the small owl that was hovering patiently. Hermione quickly made her way to the window, and, after giving the owl a small snack, opened the parchment it had been carrying.

_Small problem_, it read. _Mrs. Weasley knows you are here. Young Miss Weasley saw you in Hogsmeade? Please floo to my office at your convenience. Albus._

Hermione swore. She knew she should have gone after Ginny and Neville the other night. She could barely imagine what Mrs. Weasley's reaction to Ginny's news had been. What she didn't doubt was that it had been loud and that poor Arthur Weasley was now in hot water. Reluctantly, Hermione took a quick shower and readied herself for the day. She had hoped to spend the day reading, followed by a quick appearance at the party later. Now she'd be lucky if she would even find the time to change into her new dress robes.

Hair dried and a few cosmetic charms applied to cover the dark circles under her eyes, Hermione floo'ed to Dumbledore's office. Finding the office empty, she walked over to pet Fawkes for a few moments. Eventually she sat, quickly pilfering a lemon drop as she began to wonder what was keeping him.

All too soon, she heard voices coming from the entranceway of the office. She could hear Albus' quiet tones and…

Hermione groaned. Mrs. Weasley had apparently wasted no time getting to Hogwarts this morning. Briefly, Hermione entertained the thought of flooing back to her rooms but quickly discarded the idea. They would only hunt her down eventually.

Hermione flinched as the door was flung open and a sea of red hair flowed into the room. Hermione counted five different Weasleys, including a small child. They were all talking animatedly, throwing questions at the aging wizard in their midst. Even the child, a girl who appeared to be no older than about four, was adding her voice to the racket.

Valiantly, Dumbledore sought to answer them, mostly directing his answers to the Weasley matron. Hermione shrank back into her chair, desperate to be overlooked. Maybe she _should _have floo'ed out when she'd had the chance. As it was, she now found herself effectively trapped and eventually someone would notice her. And, even as the thought crossed her mind, she registered the fact that the room had gone completely silent.

Bravely, Hermione raised her eyes. What met her eyes were the faces of five Weasleys, all wearing identical expressions of shock. Well, all except the little girl. She merely seemed curious.

Standing, Hermione catalogued the faces before her. Of course, Molly Weasley was instantly recognizable, looking as motherly as ever. Standing next to her was Ginny, followed by the Arthur, who was holding the little girl. Finally, Hermione's eyes fell on the last Weasley. Her breath hitched as she took in his all too familiar features.

Ron.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, obviously in a lame attempt to ease the tense atmosphere of the room. Almost as though that act had been a trigger, Molly threw herself at Hermione, wrapping her in a fierce motherly hug. Hermione soon found herself surrounded by the rest of the clan, all of which had recommenced their questioning, this time directing their inquiries to Hermione rather than the Headmaster.

Hermione, for her part, tuned them out, simply choosing to bask in the warmth of Molly's embrace. For all that she had been successful in moving on with her life, the lack of human contact had been starting to wear on her. Just to be held by another person was a blessing that Hermione wasn't willing to waste. Still, despite her desires, she disengaged herself carefully from the now crying woman. She took a deep breath and gestured for the rest of the Weasleys to quiet themselves. She didn't dare look in Ron's direction, although she could feel him near her; to look at him now would break her.

She gave Arthur a shaky smile that he returned warmly. It served to strengthen Hermione's fragile control on her emotions. In the meantime, Albus conjured several chairs and motioned for the Weasleys to sit. Hermione rather hesitantly took a seat next to Ginny, quickly glancing her way.

As Molly opened her mouth to speak, Albus raised his hand. "Please, Molly. I know you have a lot of questions, but please let me try to explain before you continue." Molly looked displeased, but nodded her head for him to continue. Hermione noticed vaguely that Ron had yet to speak. He, in fact, looked rather dazed when Hermione snuck a glance at him. Albus continued, "As you've no doubt heard, we have with us someone whom we had all thought lost. Miss Granger arrived a little over a week and a half ago. The… circumstances surrounding her arrival are still a little vague at best, but I can assure you that the woman sitting before you is, in fact, Hermione Granger."

Hermione was startled when Ron jumped to his feet. "Are you sure?" he asked Dumbledore, eyes glinting dangerously. "She could be an imposter. We all know Hermione's dead; this woman could just be taking advantage of us."

The Headmaster merely gave a small smile, eyes a-twinkle. "I assure you, Mr. Weasley, that the thought had crossed my mind." His smile grew broader when Ron blushed in embarrassment. "We've checked and rechecked and I have personally verified Miss Granger's identity via Legilimency. The circumstances surrounding her arrival are extraordinary, to say the least, and I can understand that you would be hesitant to believe her identity."

Arthur Weasley now spoke, giving Ron a pointed look to sit. "Perhaps you should tell them how you came to be here, Hermione. It might help us all understand what has happened." He gave her a kind look.

Hermione looked at their faces, trying to judge what their reactions to her story would be. "Well," she started hesitantly, "I know that this will all sound a bit odd to you, but please bear with me." She paused to gather her thoughts. Looking down at the finger her wedding ring had formerly occupied, she continued, "I'm not exactly the Hermione Granger that you knew so many years ago." Ron glanced up sharply, a triumphant look on his face and Ginny shifted in the seat next to Hermione. She ignored them. "Although it might seem a little far-fetched, I'm actually from an alternate reality."

Hermione noticed that the little girl had wandered into the far corner of the room, seemingly uninterested in Hermione's tale. Arthur and Albus both had supportive looks on their faces; Ginny, Ron and Molly simply looked confused. Hermione sighed explosively. "It's like this: there is a theory that there are actually an infinite number of realities that closely resemble our own, or, in some cases, differ radically. These different realities would account for different circumstances. For example, in your reality, the Dark Lord was defeated at the end of your seventh year, Ron. Well, in the reality I came from he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't defeated at all. In my reality, Hogwarts belongs to the Dark Lord and all of you are dead." She said it plainly, ignoring the gasps from Ginny and Molly. Ron's face had gone white, tinged with a bit of confusion. It was Arthur who tried to explain further.

"You all know how smart Hermione is. Well, she discovered a potion that brought her here, to our reality. And, even though I know you didn't mean to do that exactly, my dear, we're all glad that you did." He looked at her with such caring in his eyes that Hermione felt her eyes well up uncontrollably. As she tried to bite back a sob, she found herself being crushed in an awkward hug.

Ron held on to her tightly as he spoke. "I'm so sorry, Mione. I didn't want to believe it was really you and have my hopes dashed. But if it really is you… By Cor, I'm _so _glad you're here." He was sobbing lightly now, frame still hunched over her chair as he held on to her. With one final squeeze, he straightened, looking embarrassed at his outburst. Hermione simply gave him a shaky smile.

"Me too, Ron. Me too."

Severus Snape was generally pretty accepting of his lot in life; after all, he had a decent job that came with free room and board, the Dark Lord was dead, and he didn't have to deal with Harry "Savior of the Wizarding World" Potter on a day-to-day basis any more.

However, as he looked around at the garish decorations that covered nearly every inch of the Great Hall, he seriously contemplated packing up his belongings and moving to some far away country. Preferably one in which Albus Dumbledore was banned from throwing parties.

Try as he might, Severus had been unable to come up with a valid excuse to avoid the festivities. He had briefly considered poisoning himself, but had decided against it upon realizing that Albus would probably just move the party to the hospital wing to accommodate him.

So, with a look of sour suffering fixed firmly on his face, Severus made his way to the darkest corner of the room. He may have no choice in being here, but he'd be damned if he would be stuck making _small talk _(even the thought made him ill) with the Weasleys and Longbottom.

Upon reaching his dark corner, Severus gave Albus a smirk. The elderly wizard was ensconced between Molly Weasley and Minerva McGonogall, a look of delighted glee on his face. Severus nodded at him as if to say, _ You got me here, old man. But you are decidedly _not _going to make me enjoy myself. _Albus understood. After all, it was the same look Severus gave him every year.

Leaving Albus to his merriment, Severus settled into a chair and pulled _Practical Potions Weekly _from his pocket. Since he was likely to be stuck here until at least midnight, he might as well catch up on his reading. Quickly settling into his reading, occasionally muttering about the idiots they let publish these days, Severus almost missed the silence that fell over the hall.

Sensing that something was amiss, he glanced up from the journal. He quickly catalogued the faces of the hall's inhabitants. Some were clearly shocked, others confused. The Weasley clan seemed excited but otherwise unaffected, and Dumbledore looked positively jubilant.

_Ah_, Severus thought as his eyes tracked to the double doors, _our resident Lazarus has arrived._

Gradually the sound in the room resumed its normal pitch, although somewhat tinged with curiosity. The ersatz Miss Granger began moving across the room towards the Weasleys. She looked stunning in the dark green robes she wore, and that neckline was simply sinful.

_Whoa there, Snape old boy. That's about enough of that_. Severus resolutely shoved the thoughts of how good the woman looked to the back of his mind. He resolved to mix up a wit-sharpening potion when he got back to his quarters. He was obviously slipping.

He narrowed his eyes, letting his suspicions of the woman come to the forefront of his mind. She was laughing gaily at something Arthur Weasley had just said. _Just great_, Severus thought. She had clearly wasted no time wrapping the Minister of Magic around her finger. Now Severus would have an even harder time convincing Dumbledore of her lies.

His mind drifted back to his encounter with her in Hogsmeade. She had seemed genuinely disturbed at being discovered by Miss Weasley and Mr. Longbottom. But if she was truly trying to establish herself as Hermione Granger, why had she gone to such lengths to tame her hair and glamour her eyes?

Severus shook his head. It wouldn't do to let his guard down around her. She clearly was far more cunning than he had originally suspected.

Severus was startled out of his reflection when he heard a woman's voice shout "Enough!" He was out of his chair, searching the room for possible threats before his mind even registered it. His eyes quickly found the source of the disturbance. The Granger impostor was standing, speaking to Ron Weasley. Severus began to move towards them but stopped, rooted into place as a look of undiluted grief briefly crossed her face. It was as though her emotions had been laid bare before him. Maybe that was the reason he found himself following her as she turned and bolted from the hall, robes streaming behind her.

Maybe that was the reason he found himself wondering if she was all right.

Maybe he needed that wit-sharpening potion.

Hermione was desperately trying to come up with a reason to avoid Albus's party. She had even briefly considered poison, but had discounted the idea upon realizing that Albus would probably just move the party to the hospital wing to accommodate her.

So now she found herself standing before the doors to the Great Hall, hair tamed, cosmetic charms in place and regally decked out in her new robes. The robes were the only good thing about the whole situation.

After her meeting with the Weasleys today, Hermione didn't feel up to doing much of anything, let alone socializing with a bunch of people she hardly knew. After Ron's little outburst, Hermione had spent the next couple of hours being grilled by Ron, Ginny and Arthur and being mothered by Molly. Finally, in an act Hermione would have gladly kissed him for, Albus had ushered the ginger clan out the door and practically pushed Hermione into the floo after telling her not to be late for his party.

Hermione had spent the rest of the day in a state of shock, trying to recover from emotions of the day. She had managed to do so only a few hours before the party and had been forced to hurry to get ready.

The only upside to the day had been meeting Ron's little girl, Sophie. At some point during the interrogation, Ron had started fighting with Ginny. Sophie had stealthily slid into Hermione's lap as she watched the two fight and proceeded to tell Hermione that "My name's Sophie and I'm four and that's my Daddy and he says Mummy needed a vacation and I have a dog named Sammy and Daddy said he's gonna teach me to fly a broom and…" Eventually, the words all blurred together, but Hermione got the gist. She'd held onto the girl for the rest of the conversation, drawing strength from her innocence and wishing desperately that she could escape.

Escape she had, but now Hermione had to face the music. With every ounce of Gryffindor bravado she possessed, Hermione opened the door and stepped inside.

The silence that greeted her nearly made her turn tail and run.

Lifting her chin defiantly, Hermione tried to ignore the gawking faces around her and made her way resolutely towards the Weasleys. They, at least, weren't surprised to see her and, while their greetings were certainly exuberant, they didn't ask stupid questions like everyone else in the room was no doubt dying to do. They'd already done that earlier.

"Hermione, come sit by me." she heard Ron say. With a small smile, she settled herself beside him, accepting the butterbeer he handed her.

"We were just discussing your incredible story, Hermione." Mrs. Weasley said exuberantly. _Of course you were_, Hermione thought darkly, _what else would you be doing._

"That's nice. Glad I could keep you entertained." She saw Albus frown out of the corner of her eye but ignored him.

Mrs. Weasley looked momentarily uncertain but quickly overcame it. Suddenly, Hermione felt bad. She didn't mean to be so short with Mrs. Weasley; she was just tired and stressed. "Well, yes. Of course. Tell me, dear. Where did you get those robes. They're absolutely stunning."

Hermione started to answer when she was distracted by a dark figure in the shadows. Snape. No doubt spying on her, as though he had reason to believe she would do anything in the middle of a party. She sighed, pushing him from her thoughts. Giving a small smile, she answered Molly, "Gladrags. I actually got them…"

But Molly had already moved on to the next subject. "Did you hear that Elfera Mosely's son…" Hermione tuned her out. From beside her Ron said, "Hope Mum's not bothering you too much. She never did deal with a shock very well, and seeing you was, well… you know."

Hermione gave him a genuine smile. "That's okay. She is a bit much to take right now, but it's okay. It's kind of endearing."

Ron frowned. "You know, she and Dad took it pretty hard when you died. They'd started to see you as part of the family and since your parents were dead they felt sorta responsible for you."

Hermione knew she should have felt some kind of shock upon learning that her parents hadn't survived in this reality either, but she didn't. She'd dealt with that grief years ago. Instead she said, "Ron, it's okay. Really. I love your mother like my own and it actually feels kind of good to have someone mother me right now."

He smiled again, relieved. "That's great, Mione." Hermione was glad Ron was with her. She could already feel her bad mood lifting. As the evening wore on, they shared stories of their respective lives. At first, Ron was hesitant to speak about his personal life, but eventually broke down and told Hermione how his wife had left him six months earlier. Despite his revelations, he seemed hesitant to tell her more; Hermione decided not to push him. "You know," he hesitantly said after a lull in the conversation, "since you're back now maybe you and I could…"

Hermione didn't let him get any further. "Ron, I'm flattered but now is not a good time. And, well, the thing is I was married and he just recently…"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mione. I didn't realize. Was he… well, was it someone I know?"

"Actually, he was a teacher at Hogwarts. We were married for six years."

"Oh, that's great, Mione. A teacher's a great match for you." Suddenly he started to laugh. "Oh, wouldn't it be hilarious if you had married Snape. What with you-"

"Hilarious." Hermione intoned flatly. Ron paused, confused by the coldness he detected in her voice.

"Yeah… uh, okay there, Mione?" he asked tentatively, aware of the tension that had settled between them.

Hermione stood. "I think I need to get out of here." she said without preamble. Her face was pale but otherwise betrayed no emotion.

Ron stood. "Sure, Mione. We could go for a walk."

"No, Ron. I need…" her voice failed her momentarily. "I need to be alone."

"Uh, okay. Umm… look, I'm sorry about the Snape comment. Probably reminded you of your teacher husband, huh?"

"Enough!" she said loudly. "Just do me a favour and stop talking, Ron." She was shaking noticeably, anger at Ron's comments warring with grief. She opened her mouth to apologize- after all, he wasn't being intentionally cruel- but no sound would emerge. Instead, Hermione whirled and ran from the room.

Once outside the Great Hall, Hermione forced herself to slow. She was angry, not at Ron, but at herself. She shouldn't have been surprised at his comments; she sincerely doubted this Ron cared for Snape anymore than the one she had known.

But her pain was still too near the surface; she should never have come to the damn party to begin with. Between Ron and Snape she knew she didn't have a chance in Hell of enjoying herself.

Suddenly, she found herself outside, cold biting into her. _The rose garden_, she thought dimly. Severus had always hated the roses, said they were "far too pretentious for a flower." She plucked a bloom from the bush, inhaling its heady scent. She almost considered blasting the other buds from the bush to vent her anger. It had always seemed to work for Sev…

Her eyes welled with now familiar tears and she stifled a sob. She would _not _break down in the middle of the damn rose garden. She turned to go back inside-

And came face to face with the arrogant posture, pale countenance and flaxen hair that could only mean-

_Malfoy_.


	8. Ch7: Midnight In the Garden of Good and ...

****

Chapter 7: Midnight In the Garden of Good and Evil

Hermione brandished her wand, prepared to do whatever was necessary to protect herself. She hadn't been through Hell and back to lose her life to Malfoy now.

But why didn't Malfoy have his wand out? Surely he wasn't vain enough to think he could defeat her wandless. Well, she wasn't about to take a chance.

"Granger?"

She was startled as Malfoy said her name, the confusion evident in his voice. She squinted her eyes, trying to see him better in the dim light.

"Draco?" she gasped. It was indeed Draco Malfoy, looking eerily similar to his father in the pale light. She still gripped her wand tightly. It didn't matter if it was Draco or Lucius. _Any _Malfoy was dangerous.

"By the Gods," she heard a voice say. Not taking her eyes from Draco she asked, "Who's there? Show yourself."

And nearly fainted as Harry Potter stepped in front of her.

Harry Potter. Alive. She wasn't even conscious of her actions as she threw herself at him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly as she started to weep uncontrollably. His hand stroked her hair as he muttered nonsense words to her. Hermione wanted to stop crying, wanted to talk to him, laugh with him, tell him how much she had missed him, but she simply couldn't control herself.

She continued to pour out her grief as he maneuvered them to one of the garden benches, seating himself and pulling her into his lap. He cradled her, crooning in a deep, calming voice. It was Heaven, and for a moment, Hermione could forget that her world was gone and that she was alone.

But all too soon, reality reasserted itself. It took the form of Draco Malfoy.

"Harry, don't you think we should get her inside? It's freezing out here and she's not dressed for the weather." Even through her sobs she heard the worry in his voice. She didn't know if she was more disturbed by the fact that he seemed to care about her welfare or the fact that he had called Harry by his first name.

Harry pulled her to him more tightly. "Dumbledore said that she'd had a rough day. I think she needs this." He muttered this quietly, trying not to disturb her.

"Harry, anyone would need this after a day with the Weasleys." Ah, there was the Draco she knew and loathed. Hermione's sobs were quieting now, replaced with a deep lassitude that spread throughout her body. She could feel the cold on her face but the rest of her was warmed by Harry's body heat and comforting presence. She distantly felt Harry stand, still holding her in his arms. She wanted to hear what he was saying but she was so tired. Well, she'd just…

* * *

Snape watched in abject horror as the woman pulled her wand on Draco. He began to move from the alcove in which he was ensconced. He wasn't about to let this woman harm the last family he had. Drawing his wand, he prepared to defend his Godson. Then he stopped. A look of confusion had manifested itself on the woman's face. It was quickly followed by one of shock as Harry Potter stepped in front of her.__

_Of course_, Snape thought bitterly. _Potter to the rescue_.

He was momentarily startled from his disgusted thoughts of the Boy Who Lived when the woman flung herself into Potter's arms. He could see that she was in tears, sobs wracking her thin frame. Potter sat down, gathering her into his arms, and, inexplicably, Snape felt a pang of jealousy.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of that particular unwelcome thought, he noted that Harry had stood, the woman still in his arms. He and Draco were moving towards Snape. Rather than risk being discovered hiding in a corner, Snape stepped forward to intercept them.

"I see you've found our long-lost Miss Granger, Potter. I do believe she's set a new record in wrapping you around her little finger. Two seconds flat, I believe?"

"Shut it, Snape. This is none of your concern." Harry's voice was filled with venom, for all that the words had been whispered.

"The welfare of this school and the Headmaster _are _my concern, you little cretin. This woman is an impostor and a threat and I don't intend-"

"Godfather, please. Now is not the time for this." Draco had a restraining hand on Harry's shoulder, silencing the scathing comment Potter no doubt wished to deliver. "Harry, Dumbledore said she had the quarters behind the Dragon montage near Gryffindor tower. Perhaps you should take her up and put her to bed. Do you remember the password he gave you?"

Harry nodded sharply, still glaring at Snape. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but after a quick glance to the sleeping woman in his arms, simply turned and walked away.

Snape watched them leave, glad to be rid of their presences.

"Godfather?"

Snape turned, noting the incensed look on Draco's face. "Yes?" he drawled.

Draco's expression was stony. "Don't you think you could be a little more sensitive?"

Severus lifted and eyebrow, clearly amused.

Draco sighed. "Just forget I said that. Stupid question. I just think you could have handled that a little better. I've asked you time and time again to cut Harry a break. Get over it, Godfather. I'm sick of you two constantly sniping at one another."

"I'm not going to stoop to kissing that little-"

"Don't even finish that sentence. Look, I'm tired. Harry and I have had a long trip here, and I'd rather not get into this with you tonight." He paused and gave Snape a searching look. "What's your problem with Granger anyway?"

Snape glared. "Why am I the only one who sees that she is clearly a threat?"

"Oh, big threat all right. It was all I could do to keep her from drowning Harry in her tears. Are you off your rocker, old man? I think maybe all your years as a spy have you seeing Dementors where there are none."

"I cannot comprehend how it is that no one questions the fact that a woman who has been dead for seven years is now alive and well. I cannot _comprehend _how it is that you, of all people, seem more than willing to accept that she is, in fact, Hermione Granger. I expect such foolishness from Gryffindors but you-"

"This has _nothing _to do with Gryffindor or Slytherin tendencies." He held up a hand to silence Snape. "I'm not blindly accepting that she is who she claims to be, but I also have no reason to suspect that she's a threat to Harry, this school, or anyone else. She's been here, what, almost two weeks? I'd say she's had more than enough opportunities to maim and kill, and yet, amazingly, has done nothing. Admit it, Godfather. You're only suspicious because you can't figure out how a potion could have brought her here from another reality." Draco had a look of smug superiority on his face. He had long ago shed any fear he'd had of Snape; in turn, he was one of the few people who would dare ridicule the sour man.

Snape glowered, wishing he could hex Draco. Instead he asked, "How is it that you know so much about this woman and her claims?"

Draco smirked. "Because Dumbledore keeps Harry and me updated on such important events as these. He contacted us almost immediately after learning who she was. Harry, of course, wanted to come straight away, but Dumbledore insisted he wait until New Year's for some reason. I think I can safely guess that it had something to do with that scene we just witnessed." Draco sighed, suddenly looking less the aristocrat and more the world-weary Auror that he was.

"Go to bed." Snape said gruffly. Even though he wasn't very happy with his Godson, he couldn't help but care for his well-being. Draco had been like a son to him these last few years. Even despite his on-again, off-again relationship with Harry Potter.

Draco nodded wearily. With a quick "Good night," he disappeared into the castle.

Snape stood in the garden alone for several moments, a shadowy figure in the pale moonlight. When he did turn to leave, it was not without a final glance at the rose petals that littered the ground where the woman had stood.

* * *

Hermione snuggled deeper into the warm embrace of her husband. She didn't want to contemplate waking; she _really _didn't want to contemplate dealing with her students today. She breathed deeply, comforted by his familiar scent of-

Laundry detergent?

Hermione opened her eyes to see the pillow she had clutched in a death grip. Right. Not Severus. She threw the pillow from the bed and sat up abruptly. Running a shaky hand through her hair, Hermione tried to figure out how she'd managed to make it to her bed. She remembered leaving the party…

Harry!

Oh, wait. And Draco. She idly wondered just exactly what _that _was all about. Since when did Potters and Malfoys travel in packs? There were many things in this world that she had had difficulty accepting, but she had dealt with them and moved on. Imagining Draco Malfoy as a good guy was certainly going to be a challenge, but imagining Draco Malfoy as friends with _Harry_, of all people, was going to be neigh unto impossible.

Well, she'd just have to deal with that shock a little later. For now, she needed to figure out a way to talk to Harry without blubbering all over him. Hermione felt rather embarrassed over her greeting of her old friend; no doubt he thought she was completely insane by now. It had simply been so _good _to see him, but at the same time, a bigger shock than her already overtaxed system could take. She wasn't sure how many more emotional upsets she could take and retain her sanity.

Hermione scrubbed her face with her hands as she rolled off the bed. Her face felt tight from her earlier crying jag, and she was sure she looked a fright. She idly wondered how long she had been asleep. Glancing at the clock on her night table, she noted it was only just after midnight. _What a way to ring in the New Year_, she thought bitterly.

Stepping into her lavatory, Hermione took a moment to study her reflection in the mirror. The face that confronted her was splotchy, the eyes red-rimmed and puffy. More disturbing was the look of hollow desolation that reflected from her eyes. She'd been careful not to glance at her reflection over the past few days; she knew what she would see would only serve as a painful reminder of her past. Now she understood the looks of pity Albus gave her on a day-to-day basis. She pitied herself as she looked at her image; she was a mess.

Shaking herself from her reverie, Hermione washed her face and freshened up. Her head still felt fuzzy, but she was already feeling loads better. As she stepped into her bedroom, she heard faint voices coming from her den. Curious, Hermione put her ear to the door. She instantly recognized Harry and Ron's voices. She wasn't sure she wanted to deal with either of them right now, but, even as tired as she was, she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep without talking to them.

Resolutely, Hermione pushed open the bedroom door and was immediately met with twin looks of concern. Ron stepped forward hesitantly, but Hermione waved him off. Giving the men a tired smile, she moved toward her loveseat and settled into the cushions heavily.

Ron sat in the chair opposite her as Harry tentatively took the seat next to her. They both looked a little unsure of what to say, so Hermione took the initiative.

"Sorry about earlier. Both of you. I was a little…upset." she finished lamely. Harry nodded, looking at her intently.

"Do you feel better now?" he asked.

"Well… yes, actually." Hermione said, a little surprised at her own answer. She actually felt better than she had in a long time, as though she had needed the release. More than likely, it wasn't her outpouring of grief that was making her feel better; it was Harry's presence. She smiled. "Thank you for… you know."

Harry smiled back. "No problem. You don't know what it means to me to have had the opportunity." he said thickly.

"You'd be surprised."

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers intensely. "Perhaps you do, at that."

"Umm…" Ron intoned after a moment, breaking the silence that had settled between Hermione and Harry. "You're sure your okay, Mione?"

She turned to look at him. "Yes, Ron. I'm sure." she said patiently. He looked a little sheepish as he replied, "I sorry for how I acted earlier, too. I didn't mean to upset you."

Hermione sighed. "You couldn't have known, Ron. It's okay. It's just been a long, difficult day, and you caught me a little off guard."

Ron looked relieved and settled back into his chair.

"So," Harry said, catching her attention. "How are you settling in?" he asked politely.

"Pretty well. It's been difficult, of course, but Albus has been amazingly supportive. I probably wouldn't have fared half as well without him."

Harry nodded. "I wish I could have been here earlier, but Dumbledore thought it would be better if you settled in before I came."

Hermione was actually a little relieved that he had waited. She didn't even want to think about what her reaction would have been had she seen him right after she arrived. It was better that she had had some time to prepare herself.

Harry suddenly laughed, a little hysterically. Both she and Ron looked at him a little oddly. "Harry?" Ron asked.

He calmed, eyes suspiciously bright. "I just can't believe this. The three of us back together. I'm trying to process it, but the whole situation doesn't seem real. Hermione, you're sitting here next to me, alive and whole, and I can't help but remembering holding your dead body in my arms."

Hermione gasped. She hadn't known. "Harry," she said brokenly. He shuddered at the sound of her voice, and she leaned forward to wrap her arms around him. He didn't cry. He simply held on to her tightly as she comforted him, returning his actions of earlier. Her eyes met Ron's and she suddenly understood.

As difficult as it was for her to be around them, it was as difficult, if not more so, for them to be around her.

She closed her eyes as she held onto Harry, too drained to cry and too content to let him go. She dimly acknowledged that Ron had sat down behind her and wrapped his arms around both she and Harry. The Trio was together again, and each of them vowed it would be a cold day in Hell before they let themselves be torn asunder again.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews!!! Sorry for the late update. Real life is a pain. 


	9. Ch8: The Morning After

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Chapter 8: The Morning After

The next day dawned brightly and more than a little too early for the castle's inhabitants. Snape blearily made his way to the Great Hall. He'd spent most of the night in front of his fireplace, a glass of fire-whiskey in one hand, his thoughts occupied by a bushy-haired woman. Draco's words had haunted him, even made him doubt his suspicions of her, and that didn't set well with Snape. His mind argued back and forth for most of the night, suspicion warring with logic, until Snape had silenced his internal struggle with a draught of Dreamless Sleep.

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Even that hadn't kept his mind quiet for long. He had awoken early, unable to fall back asleep and unwilling to give his mind time to resume its conflict.

So Snape found himself joining the queue of other exhausted, hung-over party goers. He hadn't even bothered to take a Hang-over Relief potion; the throbbing in his temple actually served to drown out his troubled thoughts. It also had the side effect of making him even more unpleasant than normal, which served to frighten away any early morning conversationalists. That suited Snape just fine.

The Headmaster had dispensed with the normal seating arrangements in the hall, so Snape was forced to sit with the other diners. He seated himself as far away as he could from them and poured a cup of coffee. He began to feel marginally more human as he sipped the bitter beverage. He briefly set his cup down to glower at Professor Hooch when she attempted to move towards him; she frowned and decided against approaching him.

Satisfied that he had made his wish to be left alone clear, Snape idly nibbled on a piece of dry toast and looked around the table. He didn't see his Godson, nor did he note the presence of the newly reunited Gryffindor Trio. He was a little disappointed not to see the former, but was profoundly grateful that he didn't have to suffer the latter. Somewhere in the middle of that thought, Snape realized that his mind had come to a conclusion. He reluctantly allowed himself to accept that the woman he had stumbled onto in his office nine days ago was, as she claimed to be, Hermione Granger.

Logically, he had been unable to discover any evidence to prove that she was an imposter. For the last few days, his refusal to accept reality had mostly stemmed from his own formidable ego. The idea of being wrong had never set well with Snape and this situation was no different. Unfortunately, the evidence that he _had _managed to gather about the woman had all seemed to point, nearly irrevocably, to the fact that she was the long dead Miss Granger. Draco's admonishments had only served to catapult Snape's mind to agreeing with the facts.

His mind drifted back to his memory of her appearance at the party. She had been dressed in Slytherin colors and, as his traitorous mind pointed out, had looked radiant. His mind also felt the need to point out that she wasn't his student (well, actually, _she _had _never _been his student), and that he didn't need to feel guilty at finding her attractive. Snape told his mind to bugger off.

Of course, his thoughts of her appearance were quickly overshadowed by the memory of the grief he had beheld on her face prior to her flight from the Great Hall. After witnessing her breakdown in the garden, Snape felt the need to mentally send her a small apology for his earlier brusqueness. Of course, he would never apologize to her in person, but he might treat her a little less harshly from here on out.

Because, if what Albus had told him of her reality was true, he couldn't help feeling sympathy for her. One of his greatest nightmares, even to this day, was living in a world where the Dark Lord had survived. He recalled, with a shudder, how he had felt when Albus told him that the Dark Lord had defeated the forces of good in her world. Idly, he wondered if his counterpart had survived.

Snape was roused from his reverie as the Headmaster entered the hall. Of course, the man was damnably cheerful, though Snape suspected he hadn't yet slept. He groaned when he saw that the old wizard had spotted him and was moving right towards him.

"Severus, my boy. You're up early." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling madly.

Snape waved a hand to decline the lemon drop the Headmaster offered him. "I couldn't bear the thought of letting you eat alone," he replied sarcastically. "Have you even been to bed?" he asked bluntly.

"No, but when you get to be my age, you try not to waste time by sleeping." He sat, poured a cup of coffee and proceeded to dump half the sugar bowl into his drink. Snape grimaced. He had never understood his mentor's fondness for sugar.

"Actually," Albus continued, stealing a piece of toast off Snape's plate, "I had some very good news last night."

"Oh? Do tell," Snape said with mock enthusiasm.

Albus ignored him. "Yes, Arthur tells me that Hermione should be able to get her identity cleared through the Ministry by the end of next week."

Snape looked at the man apathetically. "And why would I care about this news?"

"Well," he said, twinkling madly, "Hermione is, you might find interesting, a Potions Mistress. She'll be taking the Ministry certification tests and I'm thinking of asking her to teach here next year."

Snape's eyebrows had nearly disappeared into his hairline, so shocked was he at the Headmaster's words. It took him a couple of minutes to formulate a response, during which Albus liberally added jam to his toast and looked at him amusedly.

"Am I to be pushed aside to make room for her then?" he finally asked, venom lacing his every word.

The Headmaster laughed, startling a couple of the diners. Snape merely continued to fume, Dumbledore's antics not endearing him to acerbic man. Eventually, he said, "Oh, the look on your face. Actually, and don't tell _anyone _this, I'm giving you the Defense position. If you're still willing to accept it, that is."

Snape was floored. In the years since the Dark Lord's defeat, Snape had continued to apply for the DADA position. He hadn't really done so out of a real desire to get it, although he wouldn't have objected if he had, but as a sort of running joke between the Headmaster and himself. Whatever Snape had expected the Headmaster to say, it certainly hadn't been this.

"I'm honored, of course, but I do have to ask: what is it that changed your mind?"

"Actually, you owe my reversal of opinion to Miss Granger. She's told me what an excellent Defense teacher you made in her world. And, well actually," he said a little sheepishly, "she admonished me for not having given you the position already."

Snape laughed, startling the Headmaster and shocking the other diners speechless. "Amazing. She really does have you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she?"

"Severus," Dumbledore admonished, "I think you should be a little more grateful to her-"

"Oh, put your hackles down, old man," he replied lightly. "Although I wouldn't say I'm _grateful _to her, per se, I am pleased by her confidence in me- or the alternate reality me, as it were. Tell me, did she happen to mention if my counterpart survived the war?"

Albus looked uneasy as he answered vaguely, "I don't quite remember." Snape doubted his statement, but didn't pursue the matter.

"Well, then. I suppose if she passes her Mastery," Snape did look a little dubious about her chances, "I will accept the Defense position. Thank you."

"No thanks necessary, my boy. Well, not to me at least. Miss Granger-"

"Don't push it, Albus," Snape growled. Dumbledore merely smiled and took a bite of his jelly-laden toast.

* * *

Hermione blearily opened her eyes, only to immediately close them again against the morning light. Of course, if the color of said light was any indication, it was probably closer to noon.

Hermione blindly grasped for her wand and, upon finding it, cast a Blocking charm on he window. Blissfully, the room went dark. She groggily sat up and swung her legs off the bed. She sat there for a moment with her head in her hands, wishing for the hundredth time that she hadn't agreed to Harry's offer of a quick nightcap.

In between drinks, the Trio had traded stories. Hermione had learned more of Ron's marriage. His wife, a Muggle named Laura, had gotten fed up with the strangeness of the wizarding world. She had stormed out of their small house some months ago, unapologetically abandoning her little girl.

Ron had blubbered drunkenly on Hermione's shoulder for a while, occasionally moaning about how difficult it was to be a single father. Hermione had looked at Harry questioningly. He had merely shrugged and mouthed that Ron hadn't been taking the divorce very well.

Harry, on the other hand, was reluctant to discuss his personal life. Oh, he told her loads of stories about his work as an Auror and his brief stint as Seeker for the Tutshill Tornadoes. But, when she had asked him why he had arrived with Draco, he had simply reddened noticeably and mumbled vaguely. Secretly, she resolved to find out the whole story, but hadn't questioned him any further.

And so, after consuming the three bottles of fire-whiskey Ron had helpfully retrieved from his room, the Trio had cried, laughed and stumbled their way back into a solid friendship.

Her throbbing head reminded her that they probably could have done the same sans fire-whiskey. Hermione told it to bugger off.

It had been nearly dawn before Harry and Ron had deposited Hermione into bed and staggered drunkenly to their own rooms. Hermione glanced at her clock and noted that it was only a few minutes after ten. She couldn't have been asleep more than five hours, but after the day she had had yesterday she knew that hadn't been enough.

But now that she was up, it was going to be impossible to go back to sleep. Hermione pulled herself from her bed, wishing, not for the first time, that she had a Hang-over Relief potion. She missed having a lab that she could brew in, and she silently cursed Snape for being so pig-headed. Still, she remembered that it had taken her nearly a year of constant nagging to get her Severus to consent to letting her use his labs. She got the feeling she would never get the same boon from Snape.

Either the pounding in here head was getting louder, or someone was knocking on the door. She stumbled into the den, sure now that it was knocking. She cracked open the door and was surprised to see a cheerful looking Harry smiling back at her.

"Morning, Hermione. Ready to go to breakfast?"

Hermione bit back the nausea that threatened her at the sound of food. "How in Hell can you be so cheerful?" she asked irritably, opening the door to let him enter.

Harry held up a small phial and thrust it into her hand. "Hang-over relief potion. Draco was kind enough to procure a couple for us after I nearly bit his head off this morning."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at his pronouncement but didn't pursue it, instead downing the blessed potion. She immediately felt her head clear and the room stopped spinning. "Thanks," she told Harry as she collapsed bonelessly onto the loveseat.

"No problem. I thought you might appreciate the chance to see the Weasleys before they left this morning."

"Ron's leaving?" she asked disappointedly.

"No, actually he and Soph are going to stay for a while. He… well I don't think he really feels like going back to his house right now."

"He's had a rough time lately, hasn't he?"

"Oh, not like you have," he said apologetically, "but, yeah, he's been taking Laura's leaving pretty poorly. He still hasn't told Sophie that her mom left her."

"Yeah, she told me her 'Mummy needed a vacation.'"

"You know, I don't know if I should mention this, but…" Harry trailed off, looking a little uncertain.

"What, Harry?"

"It's just, well… Ron told me how glad he was that you were back. I don't know if you knew, but he had been dating you- or this world's Hermione, rather- when she died. I know he was crazy about her."

"Oh, Harry." Hermione sighed, plucking absently at her nightshirt. "My husband hasn't even been dead for two weeks. I can't think about Ron; I'm not sure if I'd ever be able to see him like that."

Harry sat beside her, taking her hand in his own. "I understand, Hermione. Don't feel bad. I just thought you should know how he felt. So you wouldn't be surprised or anything."

Hermione gave his hand a small squeeze and stood up. "I appreciate that, Harry," she said as she made her way to her bedroom door. "If you don't mind waiting a couple minutes for me to get ready, I do think I'd like to see the Weasleys before they leave."

"No problem, Hermione. Take all the time you need." He stretched out to lie askance on the loveseat. He smiled as he closed his eyes. "I might catch a few zee's while you're getting ready."

Hermione shut the door behind her and quickly got ready. Harry's warning about Ron was bouncing around her head wildly. She loved Ron but she could never love him like he apparently wanted her to. Even if she wasn't grieving for Severus, she knew she could never be with Ron. They were simply too dissimilar. They'd tear each other apart in a relationship.

Satisfied that she didn't look too much like the living dead, Hermione stepped back into the den. She roused Harry from his nap and together they made their way to the Great Hall.

Hermione entered the hall and immediately scanned the room to see if Snape was present. She was relieved to note that he was not. She really didn't want to deal with his scathing looks this morning. She and Harry made their way to the section of table that was currently occupied by the Weasley clan. Mrs. Weasley stood quickly and gathered Hermione in a tight hug. "How are you this morning, dear? We were worried about you when you ran from the party last night."

"I'm fine, Molly. I just got a little overwhelmed last night." Mrs. Weasley looked dubious, but quickly dropped the subject. "Well, come sit here beside me and get some food. You look like a stiff breeze would knock you over." Her motherly tone warmed Hermione. She sat between Molly and Harry, taking a few biscuits and a cup of tea. She looked around and, not seeing Ron, gave Harry a questioning look.

"No potion," he whispered. His eyes suddenly brightened and Hermione followed his gaze to the hall doors. There, in all his platinum glory, was Draco Malfoy.

"Hey, handsome," Draco said to Harry, dropping onto the bench beside him. Hermione was surprised to note Arthur Weasley's casual greeting and Molly's cheerful "Morning, Draco dear." Harry just winced a little and gave Hermione an embarrassed smile.

"Morning, Granger," Draco drawled, an amused look on his face. "I hope the potion I nicked for you worked satisfactorily."

"It worked just fine." Eventually, she steeled herself and ground out, "Thanks."

Harry looked a little relieved and instantly brightened. "Draco and I are going to be staying a couple more days. Maybe we can snag Ron and go down to The Three Broomsticks together."

Hermione was a little dubious at the thought of spending an evening with Draco. "Yeah, maybe."

Harry's grin faltered. "If you don't want-"

"Now, Harry. I'm sure Granger would _love _to go out with us. Right, Granger?"

Hermione started to reply, but Harry cut her off. "Stop it, Draco. You've got no reason to dislike Hermione, so stop acting like you do."

"Oh, I don't dislike her," he defended, "but I get the feeling she doesn't particularly like me."

Harry turned to Hermione. "Is that true, Hermione? Do you dislike Draco?"

Hermione struggled to answer. "Harry, I don't know what the Draco you know is like, but the one I knew was a Death Eater and one of the Dark Lord's most important lieutenants. I guess I can't help but be a little wary of him."

Draco looked surprised; Harry looked a little ill. "I didn't know," Harry finally replied. "I guess I forgot that things were different where you came from. But I trust Draco with my life. I… well, I want you two to get along, is all."

Hermione noted that Draco had a small smile on his face as he lightly touched Harry's shoulder. "Thanks," she heard him whisper to Harry. "Harry's right. I'm no Death Eater." He shuddered before continuing. "Actually, me and you used to be pretty chummy. Before you died that is."

Hermione sighed. "I can't make any promises, Harry. Draco. But I'll try. It's just hard to forget years worth of hatred."

Draco looked at her searchingly. "Was I- he- really all that bad?"

Hermione shuddered. "The worst. He… well, just never mind. You're not him and if Harry trusts you, well, then I will try to." She smiled at him, relaxing a little. "After all, Harry's usually a pretty good judge of character."

Draco laughed, "You're gonna give him a big head talking like that." He ruffled Harry's hair affectionately before turning back to his breakfast.

Harry leaned towards Hermione and whispered conspiratorially, "Like his ego isn't twice as big as mine could ever be." Hermione laughed, earning Harry a punch on the shoulder from Draco. As Harry turned to speak to him, Hermione let her attention wander to the rest of the Weasley's. She spoke with Ginny and Neville for a while, catching up on their engagement details. Eventually, she began a conversation with Molly concerning the latest cleaning charms. The conversations were so normal that Hermione momentarily forgot that she wasn't in her own world anymore.

"Hermione," Arthur interrupted. "I have some good news. I should be able to get your identity cleared through the Ministry later this week."

Hermione smiled brightly. "Thank you so much, Arthur. That was a lot quicker than I thought it would be."

"Yes, well… There's still a lot of paperwork to be done. I've told Albus to come down with you. With his endorsement, we'll get you fixed up in no time. I assume you'll be wanting to take your Ministry certification tests?"

"Oh! Absolutely. I didn't realize I would be able to so soon. This is great news. Thank you again." For the first time since arriving here, Hermione felt like she might actually have a chance at a real life.

"Ministry certification for what?" Molly asked politely.

"Potions Mistress. I was one in my world."

"Oh, my!" she said. "You'll be able to give old Severus a run for his money."

A voice from over her head asked, "Run for my money about what?"

Hermione froze. When had he appeared? Molly continued, "Severus. We were just discussing Hermione's Potions Mistress certification."

"Indeed," he said, coming into Hermione's line of sight. Hermione blushed as he looked at her scrupulously. "How interesting." His gaze searched hers intently before moving on.

"Well, yes," Molly said uncertainly. "Umm…"

"Arthur," Snape said, ignoring the Weasley matron. "Albus wishes you to join us in his office before you leave."

Arthur stood, giving them all an apologetic look. "I'll meet you in the rooms later, dear." he said to Molly. "I'll see the rest of you later. Hermione, I'll see you at the Ministry."

As Arthur and Snape walked away, Harry gave a small whistle. "That greasy git. What's his problem with you anyway?"

Hermione didn't reply. She was still reeling from the sensations his gaze had evoked in her. He hadn't given her his normal scathing look; he had almost seemed, well… civil, for lack of a better word.

"Oh, he'll never change. Don't you worry about him, dear," Molly said. But Hermione was worried. She could deal with suspicious, bastard Snape. But a Snape that was pleasant (as pleasant as that man could be, at any rate)? _That _worried Hermione to no end.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. Hope you're enjoying the story so far. A bit of bad news: I may be slow updating the next chappie as an outbreak of writer's block has been sighted in my area. Hopefully, I can recover from it quickly. Until then, send me some more wonderful reviews! They do wonders motivating my plot bunnies :)  
  
Big shout out the the ever impressive sophierom, my superb beta!  
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	10. Ch9: A Mystery Wrapped in an Enigma

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Chapter 9: A Mystery Wrapped in an Enigma

Three days later, Hermione was on her way to the Headmaster's office buzzing with excitement and apprehension. Today she would go with Albus to the Ministry, and, barring any unforeseen circumstances, would claim her identity as Hermione Granger, Potions Mistress, in this world.

The past few days had seemed almost too good to be true. Harry, Ron and she had been nearly inseparable. Occasionally, Draco would join the trio, and, while still a bit nervous around him, Hermione was starting to accept his presence as being part and partial to Harry's. One thing that had Hermione completely baffled was Ron's apparently excellent relationship with the younger Malfoy. The Ron she knew would have keeled over dead before making nice with a Malfoy, but this Ron apparently trusted Draco enough to leave his daughter Sophie with him when the Trio would go out. Both Draco and Sophie had no qualms about the arrangement; they appeared to get along famously.

On the downside, Hermione's research into the Latere potion had come to a complete dead end. She had done as much as she could without the manuscript, and Albus had yet to secure a copy for her. She was a bit frustrated at times by the lack of progress, although Harry and Ron made every effort to distract her, often engaging her to tell them of her world and life there. From her conversations with them, Hermione learned that her memories of her time at Hogwarts as a student were the same as theirs. There were slight differences: the fact that Hermione had never dated Ron in her world especially irked the ginger-haired man.

That was another downside. Try as she might, Hermione couldn't help but notice Ron's overly affectionate embraces and starry-eyed stares. He was also constantly begging her to tell him of her late husband, and, while Hermione knew he only did it out of a sense of curiosity, this irked her to no end. Harry sympathized as much as he could. His advice was that she should ignore him; he'd get over it eventually.

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes at the particularly unhelpful suggestion.

No, she certainly couldn't complain about her new life. She was with people that she loved, the Headmaster had informed her she could stay at Hogwarts as long as she wanted, and she was going to get her identity back.

Then again, there was still the small matter of Severus Snape with which to contend.

To say that being around Snape was difficult for Hermione was like saying that Dementors could be a little bothersome. She couldn't help but get the feeling that he was analyzing her every move. Although she was used to this due to his suspicions of her, she now got the feeling that he was watching her for entirely different reasons.

She didn't know what to think about that.

For the most part, she avoided him and he avoided her. The one time they had run into each other had been particularly tense. Hermione had been heading back to her room from the library when she encountered Snape in the darkened hallway. The two had stopped, tension settling between them. Finally, Snape had surprised Hermione when he said, "I trust you are settling in well."

Hermione's mouth had dropped open and she had been unable to form a coherent response. She hadn't heard any derision in his statement; actually, he had seemed almost solicitous. When she didn't answer him right away, Snape had simply tipped his head in her direction and smirked before gliding away.

Hermione had stood in the hall for nearly ten minutes before she could move, her mind in turmoil and her heart racing. This less antagonistic Snape was too much like her husband. So far, Snape's antagonism was the only thing that had kept Hermione from crawling into his arms and never leaving. How in the world could she deal with a _nice _Snape and retain her dignity?

She sighed as she stepped into the Headmaster's office. Albus was nowhere to be seen, so Hermione settled herself into a chair to wait for him. She wanted nothing more than to forget about Snape, but the man had gotten under her skin like a splinter. It didn't help that she was already attracted to him. He may not be her husband, but he still exuded the same confidence and fire that had drawn her to Severus in the first place. And, yes, it was horrible for her to even be thinking of another man so soon after her husband's death, but, well…

The whole alternate reality thing just gave her a headache.

"Ah, Hermione. Here already?" The Headmaster startled her out of her reverie.

"Oh, uh… Well, it's almost time to leave. Arthur said we'd need to meet him-"

"Oh, yes. You're right!" He paused, looking at her intently. "We're going to have to transfigure your clothes. We'll be going through Muggle London, after all."

Hermione suddenly noticed the Headmaster's get-up. She groaned. He was wearing a pink polo shirt with red and green plaid jodhpurs. The ensemble was completed with a pair of yellow galoshes and a baseball cap emblazoned with the words _#1 Grandpa_.

Hermione quickly backed away from the strangely dressed man when he raised his wand in her direction. "Uh, thank you, but I can transfigure my own."

Albus almost looked a little crestfallen, but allowed her to change her own clothing.

Eyeing the wizard's outfit warily, Hermione transfigured her own robes into a neat black Muggle business suit accented with black pumps. Albus took in her outfit with a disappointed look on his face. She could almost feel his desire to change its color to puce or something equally ridiculous.

"Well, we best be going," she said cheerfully to distract the Headmaster from his plotting.

He nodded, gesturing at the fireplace. "We'll be flooing to Arthur's office and then go into the city from there."

Hermione was confused. "I thought I had to be cleared through the Ministry. Why do we need to go into London?"

"Oh, no. I don't dare tell you. Arthur said he'd charm my beard clean off if I spilled the beans. He's been itching to give you the good news himself."

Hermione was dubious, but relented. She knew she wouldn't get another word out of the old fox if he didn't want to tell her.

A few minutes later, they'd crossed through the floo and were standing in the Minister of Magic's office. The Minister was nowhere to be seen.

"Why is nobody ever in their office when I arrive," Hermione mumbled to herself. She was a little impatient to get on with the business of the day.

Dumbledore gestured for her to take one of the chairs in the office. "Arthur said he might be a little late. There was some meeting he had to be at- something about illegal leg-waxing charms or some such nonsense." Hermione smiled. If anything should be illegal, leg-waxing charms were certainly near the top of her list.

The two settled into a comfortable silence, Dumbledore munching on a lemon drop and Hermione trying to ignoring the thoughts of Snape that kept popping into her head. After about thirty minutes, during which Hermione became increasingly impatient, Arthur arrived in with a flurry of Ministry officials and flying notes dancing around him. After a few well-placed words, a couple of steady glares and a quick command instructing the notes to settle on his desk, the door to the office closed and Arthur collapsed bonelessly behind his desk.

Giving them a wan smile, Arthur asked, "Have you been waiting long?"

Dumbledore shook his head, twinkling outrageously at the tired looking Minister. "You look awfully ragged for," a quick look to the wall clock, "ten a.m."

Arthur laughed. "It's been one of those days already. Hermione, how are you, my dear? Ron treating you well?"

"I'm fine and Ron has been a perfect gentleman."

Arthur laughed again. "Are you sure we're talking about the same Ron? About six foot, red hair, blue eyes."

Hermione gave him a warm smile, his demeanor relaxing her immensely. "Hmm… you're right. Could be polyjuiced imposter, I suppose."

Arthur stood, stretching and grinning at her. "Well, maybe he's been such a gentleman because you are such a lady." Hermione blushed. "Pleasantries aside, though, I suppose we should get down to business. Albus didn't steal my thunder, did he?"

Dumbledore looked innocent, and Hermione merely shook her head. "Not a peep. Says he values his beard too much to risk it."

"That's good then. Here's the good news: your identity was certified this morning. You are officially Hermione Granger as of thirty minutes ago. As for your Ministry certification, the test will be available to you before you leave here this afternoon (I pulled some strings) and if you pass (not that we doubt you will) you'll be certified by this evening. Moreover, we'll be taking a jaunt to the Department of Reality to get you some more research materials." Arthur finished with excitement, "Ready to go, then?"

Hermione was still a little shocked from his rapid-fire delivery. "Uh… the Department of Reality?" she finally asked.

"Yes, indeed. Apparently the existence of alternate realities, and even travel between them, is not unknown to the Ministry. Of course, I'd never heard anything about it, but when the Director of Mysteries heard your story, he insisted I take you to meet the Director of Reality. Your sudden appearance has them all in quite the tizzy; it seems you are somewhat of a holy grail to them."

"Why would that be?" she asked.

"Well, I don't know why exactly, but from what I overheard, you are the first person that has ever traversed realities via a potion. They are excited at the prospect of being able to pick your brain. Although, I think the fact that you are Hermione Granger is pretty exciting to them, too. It's not everyday they get to meet a dead war hero."

Hermione blushed again. She heard Dumbledore laugh beside her. "Arthur, quit embarrassing the poor woman. Anyway, we should probably be going. Hermione will need some time to take her certification today, and that's a rather lengthy process."

"Of course, Albus. Let me just transfigure my clothes and we'll be off."

Hermione just groaned when Arthur copied Albus's wardrobe.

* * *

The trip to the Department of Reality was uneventful, if one didn't count the numerous curious stares Albus and Arthur received. They marched on unconcerned, and Hermione suspected, unaware that their twin looks were more than a little out of place in the middle of London.

"Why are we going through the city, anyway?" Hermione asked Arthur. "I seem to recall that the Department of Mysteries is in the Ministry."

"Well, you're right about that, but the Department of Reality is in Muggle London. It was built around some kind of pool that supposedly reflects images of other realities. The Director of Mysteries tried to explain it to me, but I don't think he really gets it himself. I suppose we'll find out for sure when we get there."

"And when will that be?"

"Right about now, I'd guess." Arthur had stopped in front of rather dilapidated building that was completely out of place on the busy street.

"_This _is the Department of Reality?" Hermione asked, a little dubiously.

Arthur nodded. "Now, if I can just remember the passcode…"

"You didn't write it down?" Albus asked, a grin on his face.

"Oh, yes. Thank you for reminding me." Arthur looked a little embarrassed as he searched his pockets. "It's hard to figure out where exactly everything ended up in these transfigured clothes. Ah- here it is!" He pulled a wrinkled slip of paper from his shirt pocket. "Now, let's see- um, I don't suppose you could do the honors, Albus. I forgot my glasses."

Albus was grinning widely. "Indeed. Ah, yes. _The time has come to talk of many things: of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--of cabbages--and kings_. What an odd passcode."

Hermione hid a grin at the reference to the Muggle story, _Through the Looking Glass_. Personally, she thought it was the perfect story to reference when dealing with alternate realities. She watched in fascination as a shimmering door appeared before them, opening slightly in mute invitation. She glanced around nervously, but relaxed as she saw that none of the Muggle passer-bys seemed to notice them. Arthur and Albus, meanwhile, were already stepping through the door, so Hermione moved to catch up with them. Once all three were inside, the door closed behind them, and Hermione was surprised to find herself in a nicely appointed reception area. A witch was seated behind a mahogany counter, levitating a quill. She looked up, startled to see the trio enter. "May I help you?" she asked a little suspiciously.

"Yes, my dear. Arthur Weasley, Albus Dumbledore and Hermione Granger to see the Director," Arthur said.

The witch seemed startled and quickly stammered, "Of course. I- uh… I'll inform Director Muse that you are here to see him." She quickly scampered off.

"Perhaps we should change our clothing back," Hermione suggested, wincing at the bright pink shirts her two companions wore.

Arthur and Albus consented and soon all three were once again dressed in robes, Hermione feeling much happier for the change. She'd never, as long as she lived, understand the wizarding world's complete misunderstanding of Muggle culture.

A few minutes later, the receptionist stepped back in to usher them through to see the Director. They were led to a posh, but rather cluttered, office. A cheerful man in bright yellow robes immediately greeted them.

"I'm so glad you could make it today." He enthusiastically shook Albus and Arthur's hands. When he came to Hermione, he said, "Such an honor to meet you, Miss Granger. I must say, you've caused quite a stir in the Department! We're all very excited about the possibilities your potion represent."

"Um… That's very nice, Director. Although, I must warn you that I'm not exactly sure how the potion managed to transport me to a different reality." She was a bit amused by the man's enthusiasm.

"Call me Elgin." He moved to take a seat behind his desk, gesturing animatedly for the trio to take a seat. Arthur gave Hermione a rather bemused look as he shuffled some of the clutter off the chair to make room to sit.

"Now," Elgin continued. "Like I said, we're all very excited at the prospect of a potion that can breach inter-universe boundaries. It's quite the breakthrough! Of course, we realize that you'll need to do extensive research on the potion to recreate the effects, but we have faith in your abilities. After all, you are Hermione Granger, hero of the Final Battle."

Hermione was a bit taken aback by Elgin's praise. "I don't know what kind of hero I am. It wasn't me that died, after all."

"Oh, of course. I am very sorry about reminding you of your situation. I've, of course, received a full report on your home universe and the circumstances that brought you here. It's all _very _fascinating!"

Albus must have sensed Hermione's growing irritation with the Director, because he smoothly said, "Well, I'm sure Hermione will be happy to have your support for her research efforts. Tell me, Arthur said you had secured a copy of the manuscript she had been needing."

At this statement, Hermione perked up, glancing at the Director for confirmation. "Is this true? You have the manuscript?"

Elgin looked a bit flustered at being derailed from his flattery of Hermione, but he quickly recovered. "Oh, yes. Let me just pop out and find it."

Hermione sighed as the perky man exited the room. Arthur chuckled a bit as he said, "He certainly is exuberant, isn't he?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's a bit of an understatement. Still, if he really does have the same text that I used to create the Latere potion, it will be instrumental in furthering my research.

Albus gave her a kind look. "Let's hope for the best then. Tell me, what do you plan to do if you can recreate the potion?"

Hermione sighed, leaning forward in her chair to cradle her head in her hands. "I've tried not to think that far. I really don't know." She sat back, scrubbing her face. "I know I should try to go back, but…"

"Hermione, no one would blame you if you didn't want to go back. From what you've told us, there's nothing left for you there. You'd probably be killed immediately." Arthur's voice was kind but firm.

"I know," Hermione said, relieved that he didn't think she was a horrible person for not wanting to return to the hell that was her world. "It's just so hard to admit defeat, you know. And if-" She was cut off when Director Muse re-entered the office. Hermione did a double take. Had he changed clothes while he was gone? He must have, because he was wearing dark blue robes now.

"Miss Granger, this is the manuscript that Headmaster Dumbledore requested for you. We hope it will meet your needs." Elgin now seemed rather subdued. He calmly took his seat behind the desk after handing Hermione the text. As she flipped through it, he continued, "Have you had much luck discovering any of the properties of the potion yet? I believe you called it the Latere potion?"

Hermione nodded absently as she reached the page that contained the potion recipe. "My husband coined the name. We were trying to make a potion that would send Harry to a safe place. He thought that calling it Latere, or 'to live in obscurity or safety', would bring good luck."

Still composed, seeming almost to be a completely different person than he had been before, Elgin asked, "What was the potion's initial purpose?"

Hermione glanced up from the book, settling back to explain. "Just to get Harry away from the Dark Lord, really. By the time we discovered the manuscript, we were desperate. Every strike that we had made against the Dark Lord had failed. We were on the defensive and when we found the potion formula for the Latere we jumped on it. We were simply hoping to send Harry and our other fighters somewhere safe where they could regroup against the Dark Lord."

Albus cut in. "I don't believe I ever asked you: did the potion ever work as you had intended it to?"

Hermione shook her head. "No one other than myself ever had a chance to use it. We'd only just created a stable batch before the battle started. We offered it for use but no one would take it. I only used it at the very end." She paused, reigning in her emotions. "I really don't know why the potion reacted the way it did. I know we had to substitute several of the ingredients in the potion because they were no longer available, but I really don't know how that would have altered it so radically. Maybe I was brought here because there were no safe places for me in my world. I really just don't know."

Albus gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. Hesitantly, she gave him a weak smile, grateful for his support.

Elgin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, nervously clearing his throat. No doubt, he hadn't been expecting such a dramatic answer to his question. "Do you think you can recreate it?" He asked after a few minutes.

She shrugged. "Possibly, though I can't guarantee it will work the same. This," she held up the book, "will definitely be of great help. I guess I can only try."

Elgin stood. "That is all we ask of you. Actually, we were wondering if you might be interested in taking a position within the Department."

"What kind of position?" Hermione asked warily.

"Unspeakable."

Hermione was a shocked, to say the least. Although she wasn't sure what being an Unspeakable for the Department of Reality would entail (after all, they weren't called Unspeakables for nothing), she could imagine that having the full support of the Ministry would help her research immensely.

"You needn't answer me just yet, Miss Granger. Come along," he said as he made his way to the office door. "There are still some things I think you would like to see."

Hermione, Albus and Arthur followed him, each of them curious to see what the Director would reveal to them. And none of them were disappointed by what he had to show them. Beyond the door was a giant cavern. Hermione gasped at the sheer magnitude of what she was seeing. Only the most copious amount of magic could account for a cavern of this size being held within the small building they had entered.

"In case you were wondering," Elgin said, with a small grin, "We're actually below the building now. Come, I want to show you the feature of our little operation here." Gesturing for them to follow, he led them down a winding path, taking them deeper into the cavern. Occasionally, they would see a witch or wizard working in the cavern, but, for the most part, the place was empty. Finally, after what seemed like a two-mile trek, they came upon a small pool of water.

"Here it is. The Pool of Reflection," Elgin said proudly.

"Original," Hermione heard Arthur say. Suppressing her own grin, she turned to the Director. "May I ask what it does?"

"Of course. Come here." Hermione stepped to the edge of the pool. "Look into the depths and tell me what you see."

Hermione leaned over and gazed into the pool. For a moment she saw only her reflection, but the image soon shimmered. Squinting her eyes, she tried to see beyond the blurry surface. Suddenly, the image snapped into focus, causing Hermione's breath to catch. Unbelievably, she saw the back yard of her childhood home. Sitting in lawn chairs, she saw both of her parents, both mercifully alive, although aged from how she remembered them. She was startled when she saw herself emerging from the back door, carrying a platter and, amazingly, far gone with pregnancy.

Unable to tear her eyes from the scene unfolding in front of her, she asked, "What am I seeing?"

"The easiest way to explain it is that you are seeing another world. Another reality," Elgin explained. "We, all of us, see different things in the pool. All of the different paths our lives could have taken."

Hermione felt her stomach clench at the domestic scene depicted by the pool. If only her life could have been so normal and happy. Suddenly, the image blurred again, and when it snapped back into focus, Hermione gasped.

"What is it, my dear?" She could feel Albus's hand comfortingly squeeze her shoulder. She didn't answer him. Her attention was riveted on the scene in front of her. She was with Severus in a darkened room. They were standing together intimately, his arm possessively around her waist. Hermione felt tears well in her eyes at the remembrance of how safe she always felt in his arms. She watched as they moved together to another room. She vaguely recognized the place as the ballroom in the Malfoy mansion, or at least recognized it from the description Severus had once given her. Horrified, she watched as Hermione and Severus greeted Lucius Malfoy and were greeted warmly in return by the platinum-haired man.

And she was nearly sick when she saw Malfoy gesture to the body of Harry Potter that was proudly displayed in the middle of the ballroom. The Hermione and Severus she was watching laughed gaily and moved closer to inspect the body.

Sickened, Hermione twisted away from the pool, but not before she saw the other Hermione laughingly nudge the body with her foot.

"How can that be?" she asked thickly, still sickened by the image she had seen. "How could the two realities be _so _different?"

"There are an infinite number of possible realities. There are some in which you never existed, some in which you would only vaguely recognize yourself. The Pool of Reflection doesn't show any specific realities. Just random ones."

Hermione watched dully as Arthur and Albus stepped up to the pool. She moved away from the pool to sit on a bench against the wall. She tried to tear her mind away from the images she had seen in the pool, but they would not leave her. Silently, she praised whatever deity had had the good grace to send her to this reality. She could only imagine the hell she could have found herself in.

After a few minutes, a tired looking Arthur Weasley sat beside Hermione on the bench. Wearily scrubbing his hands over his eyes, he said, "We never know how lucky we are until we see what could have happened."

Hermione looked at him with haunted eyes. "No, we don't."

Arthur looked at her gravely. "I guess you would know more than most. You've seen what could have happened if we had lost the war. I don't envy you that."

"I don't regret my life," Hermione said seriously. "No matter how bad my world was, I still had happiness. In a way, more happiness than I have now." She shook her head to stall Arthur's protest. "I'm not saying that I can't be happy here. I know I can. You can't imagine what it's like for me to have Harry, Ron, you and everyone else alive and well. It's just different. I just miss…"

Arthur gave her a small smile. "Whatever I can do to help you, I promise I'll do."

Hermione gave him genuine smile. "You've already done more than I could have ever asked for." Impulsively, she gave him a quick hug before standing. "I guess we should-"

"Ah, there you are!" Hermione whirled around, seeking the source of the voice. It was Director Muse, again dressed in his bright yellow robes. Confused, Hermione glanced at the Pool of Reflection where she could see Albus standing with Elgin, still in his dark robes.

"What- Who…?" She stuttered. Out of the corner of her eye, she was saw the Elgin in dark robes hurrying towards her.

"I see you finally caught up with us, Elgin," he said.

"Of course! I had to ask around to see where you had gone to." Hermione watched the twin men's exchange with shock. She saw the Elgin in the dark robes roll his eyes. He gave Hermione an embarrassed look.

"You'd probably like an explanation," he finally said.

"Yes. That would be most helpful," Albus said, a grin on his face.

"Oh, he didn't tell you?" Yellow-Elgin said. He glared at Dark-Elgin. "I'm from an alternate reality. Came here through some kind of inter-dimensional portal and haven't found a way back, yet."

"Much to our chagrin," Hermione heard Dark-Elgin mumble.

Hiding her smile, she asked, "How long have you been here?"

"About two years now," the exuberant man replied. "That's why we're so excited about your research. You could very well hold the key to sending me home."

Hermione blanched a bit at the man's trust in her abilities. She truly didn't know if she could help the man, although she certainly could sympathize with his being trapped in an unfamiliar world.

Dark-Elgin gestured for them to follow him back to the surface. "I know he's enthusiastic," he said quietly so only Hermione could hear, "but we all truly hope your potion will work. It would be a breakthrough the likes of which we could only have ever imagined."

Hermione sighed. "Well, as long as there's no pressure."

* * *

Hermione collapsed into a chair in the hallway of the Ministry in exhaustion. She had just finished the certification exam for her Potions Mastery. The test had been easy enough; after all, she had already taken it once in her world, but it was still long and tiring. Of course, after the day she had had so far, the test was the least of what plagued her.

She was still reeling from the information she had discovered from the Directors Muse. Although she was honored to have been offered the position of an Unspeakable for the Department, she was still overwhelmed by their request. Truth was, even with the manuscript, Hermione wasn't sure if she could make the Latere potion work exactly as it had for her again. And even if she could, she was doubtful she would be able to adapt it to open portals to multiple realities.

Her head was starting to pound. What they had asked her to do was difficult, especially alone. As good as she was, she couldn't do the research they required of her by herself. It had taken the combined skills of her and Severus to create the Latere potion in the first place, and she seriously doubted Snape would be willing to work with her on the potion. Of course, she could always have Dumbledore bully him into it, but she doubted Snape would be very helpful if he felt forced. And, truth be told, she wasn't sure she could handle working in such close proximity with him day after day. Especially considering his recent tolerant behavior towards her.

Needless to say, her mind was plagued by one dilemma after another.

With a sigh, Hermione drew herself from her thoughts. The review board had said they would only need a couple of minutes to evaluate her test. Hopefully, within a few minutes she would have her Mastery certification and would be able to get back to Hogwarts.

Idly, Hermione glanced around looking for something to take her mind off waiting. When she saw a crumpled newspaper on the chair across from her, she grabbed it up. Noting that it was the day's Daily Prophet, she scanned the headlines.

And froze.

"Rash of Murders in Diagon Alley May be Death Eater Related."

Horrified, she read on.

"Ministry officials have neither confirmed nor denied that a recent rash of murders in Diagon Alley may be Death Eater related. Our sources have discovered that several of the victims were killed via the Killing Curse and were probably subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. We at the Daily Prophet cannot help but compare these murders to the ones committed by followers of You-Know-Who before the great Harry Potter vanquished him. Is another Dark Lord on the rise? Story continues on page 7."

It had to be a coincidence. It simply had to be. Hermione ripped the paper open to page seven. Her eyes scanned the story, and she grew more disturbed. The killings seemed to be like the ones Death Eaters favored. One passage in particular chilled Hermione to the bone.

"One witness says that he saw the victim leave with an aristocratic man with a cane. He tells us that while he didn't recognize the man, there was a familiar aura around him. Quote, "He had the coldest grey eyes I have ever seen. Sent a chill through me, they did. That man was a killer. I know it like I know me own wand." End Quote. Ministry officials could not be reached for comment on the killer's appearance or possible identity."

Hermione was in shock. Her mind raced back to her last encounter with Malfoy. How could she have forgotten that Lucius Malfoy had also been doused with the potion? Could he be here in this reality? And if so, why hadn't he arrived in the dungeon with her? Her mind was reeling with dozens of scenarios, each more horrifying than the last. But even in her confusion, Hermione knew that one thing was certain.

If Lucius Malfoy was in this world, her life, and that of countless others, was in grave danger.

* * *

A/N: Well, here it is. Hope it satisfies you after the long wait. I know there's probably no where near enough Severus for you, but just be patient. He'll have plenty to do come the next chapter. Thanks for all the great reviews!! And again, big thanks to my super-beta, sophierom! 


	11. Ch10: Revelations and Recriminations

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Ch 10: Revelations and Recriminations

"You want me to _what_?" Snape asked, incredulity written clearly on his face.

"She needs to use your lab space to work on the potion. She also asked me to inquire if you might be willing to help her with her research. It's all very reasonable, Severus. Besides, it's a very complicated potion and I think you would enjoy working on it." Albus valiantly tried to make his case, but, judging by Snape's reaction, wasn't doing a very good job.

Snape sighed, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Albus could tell that Severus wasn't the least bit happy by what he had to say. Still, he had promised Hermione that he would convince Severus to help her; he had no intention of letting her down.

"I don't like her and I won't work with her. Period."

Albus snapped upright in his chair and gave Snape a hard look. It was a look that brooked no argument and clearly communicated his authority as Headmaster. "But you will, Severus. It is important, not only to Hermione, but to the Ministry as well, that this potion's properties be thoroughly studied and documented. I have no doubt that she could perform the task by herself, but I see no reason why she must. Not when you are in a position to help her."

Snape glared at the man, but eventually yielded under the weight of the Headmaster's stern gaze. Stiffly, he said, "Very well, then. I will do what I must."

Albus sighed. "I didn't want to force-" He quieted when the office door opened to admit the woman in question. "Ah, Hermione. Please, do come in, my dear. I was just discussing your proposal with Severus."

Hermione glanced warily at Snape as she took the seat next to his. "And what did he have to say about my request?"

"You needn't speak about me as though I wasn't here," he snapped. Hermione's face reddened in embarrassment. "If you wish to know my response, then here it is: I do not wish to work with you, _but_-" He held up a hand to silence her when he noticed the indignant flush that crossed her face. "I will assist you, at the Headmaster's bidding."

Hermione studied the man beside her for a moment before turning to look at the Headmaster. She raised her eyebrow in question, a look that took the old wizard aback. It was a look he knew only too well; he'd seen it often enough on his Potions Master's face. He knew that it meant that she was disappointed in him for ordering Snape to assist her. Still, coming from her, it reminded him of a fact that he had buried deeply within his mind. She was Hermione Snape, and, if she had had the fortitude to be married to Severus Snape in her reality, she would have no trouble putting this Snape in his place. It only served to reinforce his decision to order Severus to work with her.

"I'm sure you two will be successful in determining the Latere potion's properties together. Should be quite the interesting project, don't you agree, Hermione?" The twinkle returned to his eye as he noted the twin glares from the two people in front of him. Albus was suddenly struck by a realization of how compatible these two people really were. He wondered if they might have a chance together in this reality. Perhaps, in time…

Severus stood rather abruptly. His spine was stiff, his look cold, as he said, "Very well, Albus. I will work with Miss Granger on her little experiment." He spat the last part disdainfully, earning another glare from Hermione. "If you'll excuse me, I must go prepare my lab." With a curt nod to Albus, Snape turned to leave, robes billowing in his wake.

Albus watched him leave with disappointment. He wished, not for the first time, that Severus wouldn't be so stubborn. "Would you like some tea, Hermione?" he asked in an effort to alleviate the tension. He wasn't surprised to find, upon looking in her direction, that she was glaring pointedly at him.

"You know he'll be impossible to work with, now?" She asked.

Albus sighed. "I know that you didn't want me to order him to assist you, but I can assure you, without my insistence, he wouldn't have consented to help you. Anyway, I think you are more than qualified to handle Severus." The last was said with a knowing smile.

Hermione's glared deepened. "My husband was stubborn, but not like this Snape."

"That's because you were married to him, my dear. He would have had to give a little in that situation. Still, I admit it may be a bit difficult to work with Severus at first, but after he gets involved in the research, you shouldn't have any problems with him."

Hermione sighed, slumping back into her seat tiredly. "I hope you're right, Albus. I do need his help. The manuscript has been helpful, but I'm still at a dead end. I don't know why I ever even agreed to attempt this anyway."

Albus looked at her carefully, noticing the stressed body language and dark circles under her eyes. He grimaced at her appearance. Ever since their visit to the Department of Reality, she had seemed to be under more stress than ever. This surprised Albus; he had thought she had settling in well after New Year's. He would definitely need to speak with Harry and Ron to see if they knew what it was that was distressing her. In truth, Albus had his suspicions, all of which revolved around a certain acerbic man in black.

"If you truly don't think you can work with Severus, then perhaps I could request that Director Muse-"

"No, there's no need, Albus. I seriously doubt anyone could help me as much as Snape could. Truth is, I don't think anyone else has the fortitude to work with me." She chucked self-depreciatingly. "I've picked up several of Severus's personality quirks over the years. Needless to say, I don't suffer fools easily."

Albus chuckled with her, amused by the picture she painted. He sobered when he noticed the distant look on her face. "Are you alright, Hermione?"

She shook herself, coming out of her daze. "What? Oh, yes. I'm fine. Just been a little tired lately." She waved off his concern. "I was just wondering if it's not too much to ask of Snape to help me. After all, he does have classes and his other duties. Perhaps I should work on this alone."

"He'll be fine, Hermione. He's more than able to juggle the workload. He could probably use the distraction from teaching all the 'dunderheads' he believes he has to deal with. Besides, I can always take some of his classes if he becomes too overwhelmed." Hermione smiled at the sly look on Albus's face.

"I'm sure he'd love that," she said laughingly. She sighed again, her good mood fading quickly. "I just hope we can figure this potion out quickly. Especially now that..." She broke off, looking away from the Headmaster. He frowned, wondering what she didn't want him to know. "Well," she said, standing. "I'd better go collect my notes and brave the dungeons. Time waits for no man, and all that rot."

Albus nodded, rising from his chair. He walked to her side, gazing at her intently. "Are you quite sure you're well, Hermione?" he asked gravely. Her eyes slid away from his, only serving to peak his concern more.

"Of course. Like I said, I'm just tired. Thank you for getting Snape's assistance." She quickly moved to the office door, desperate to make her getaway.

"Hmm… well, if you need any further help, don't hesitate to ask."

Hermione nodded, looking relieved that he didn't intend to interrogate her further. "I'll see you later, Albus."

Albus watched her leave, questions whirling through his mind. There was something bothering her, something beyond just Severus Snape. Clearly, she had her reasons for not confiding in him, but Albus was still worried. He only hoped she would trust him enough to come to him if she needed his help.

* * *

Severus bit back a snarl as the Granger woman once again invaded his workspace. "Is there something I can do to help you?" he asked sarcastically.

She gazed at him, clearly unperturbed. "Yes, actually. But as you seem unwilling to be of any assistance at all on this project, I won't burden you with the details." She picked up the phial she had been reaching for on his table and walked back to her own table.

Severus glared at her, wishing, not for the first time, that he hadn't promised Albus that he wouldn't hex her. For three days now he had been made to suffer her presence and the impact it had had on his privacy. On the first day, she had walked into his lab and immediately set about cleaning and rearranging it as though she owned the place. He had glared, sneered, snarled and, finally, threatened her with bodily harm in an effort to reassert his dominance.

She had simply ignored him and continued her actions.

Now, Severus was at the end of his patience. Having sneaked a glance at her notes (he wasn't about to ask her what she was doing), he had gathered that her research into the mystery potion that had brought her here wasn't going very well. Personally, Severus couldn't comprehend how she, even with her relative intelligence, had been able to complete such a complicated potion on her own. In truth, Severus himself, although loath to admit, wouldn't have attempted such a feat unaided.

Severus supposed, had he been a better man, he could have offered to assist Granger in brewing the Latere potion. It was indeed a challenge worthy of his expertise. However, pride goeth before the fall and all that nonsense, so Severus was content to observe her struggle with the potion.

Today, he could clearly sense that she was more frustrated than she had been the previous two days; he idly wondered if she had reached a stalemate in her research. Maybe he could catch another glimpse of her notes-

"I give up! This is impossible!" Even the normally unflappable Snape was startled by her sudden outburst. Rising from his stool, he made his way to her table. Remembering that discretion was always the better part of valour, Severus approached Granger cautiously.

"What appears to be the problem?" he asked disdainfully.

Hermione looked at him with flashing eyes. "Nothing you need concern yourself with," she said coldly. With a wave of her wand, she banished the contents of her cauldron. "You've made your disinterest in my research more than clear."

"Well," Severus said, "if your incompetence is such that you cannot finish this project, I might find it within myself to stoop to assisting you. I am, after all, quite used to dealing with dunderheads and their relative shortcomings."

Even as the words left his mouth, Severus knew he had perhaps gone too far. This suspicion was validated when he saw Hermione's face flush. With a barely controlled air of fury surrounding her, Hermione stood. She moved towards Severus, a noticeable stalk in her step which caused him to take a step back.

Severus had never before seen a woman so obviously enraged. Even her relatively small stature did not seem to lessen the threat that she now posed to him. Discretely gripping his wand, he said, "You do need my help, don't you?"

Hermione's eyes widened and, just as quickly as it had risen, her ire evaporated. She turned from him and sat heavily back on her stool. Severus had to admit that he was surprised by her sudden acquiescence. The Hermione Granger he had known had never been one to back down from a fight. Letting go of his wand, he stepped towards her. Not sure what it was that he intended to do, he picked up the book she had been studying.

"Has this manuscript not been of help to you?" he asked, skimming the page concerning the potion. His trained eye noticed that several of the ingredients in the potion weren't even available anymore.

Hermione sighed. Eyeing Snape warily, she said, "It's been useful, I suppose. This copy is certainly more complete than the copy we used previously."

"You had assistance brewing this potion previously?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. A Potions Master assisted me."

Snape, still reading the manuscript, nodded. He paused, tapping his fingers to his lips in thought. "Who was it? Perhaps we could contact his counterpart in this reality-"

"Um… that really won't be necessary," Hermione said nervously.

Snape snorted. "Of course it will. You clearly aren't having any success recreating the potion on your own. This isn't a project for one person to attempt."

"That's precisely why I asked for your help," Hermione snapped.

"Yes, I'm sure it is," he drawled. "However, if you are trying to recreate the potion exactly as you did in your reality, it would be prudent to work with the same Master. You know that each brewer leaves his distinctive mark on the potion."

Hermione looked at Snape with wide eyes. He raised his eyebrow, amused by her indecision. After a few moments, she sighed. "I meant that it wouldn't be necessary because… well, because it was you who assisted me."

Severus was shocked, but oddly pleased that he- at least the other him- had been involved in creating such an advanced potion. He looked at her pointedly. "Perhaps if you had mentioned this earlier it could have saved us a lot of trouble."

Hermione looked at him in surprise. "Does that mean you'll help me?" she asked tentatively.

Snape sighed. "I suppose it does." Looking at her sharply, he added, "At any rate, my assistance will serve to get you out of my lab sooner."

Before he knew it, Severus found himself with an armful of Hermione Granger. He stiffened, shocked at her behaviour. "What are you-"

Hermione stiffened as well. Untangling her arms from around his neck, she stepped back. Her eyes were rooted to the floor, but Severus could see that her cheeks were flaming. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "I just wanted to say thank you."

Severus studied her for a moment before speaking. "Yes, well. Just make sure there is no more _hugging,_" he said the word with barely disguised disgust, "in the future."

And he was startled again when she raised her head and gave him a blinding smile. "No problem," she said. Then she smirked. "Well, don't just stand there. Let's get to work."

Snape bemusedly watched her turn back to her worktable. Maybe working with her wouldn't be as torturous as he had suspected.

* * *

Two weeks later, they were no closer to unravelling the mysteries of the potion. Severus and Hermione had been working nearly non-stop every night. While Severus was teaching, Hermione would research the library, cross-referencing information she had acquired from the manuscript. Although frustrated by the lack of progress, Hermione was hopeful that the answer she was looking for was just within her reach.

Severus had, much to her surprise, turned out to be an excellent lab partner. Oh, she knew beyond a doubt that he was efficient and brilliant; he was still the same Severus Snape she had been married to in that regard. What surprised her was that, after a suitable period of grumbling, he had begun to take her seriously. He offered suggestions with no hint of condescension and had even, on one particularly memorable occasion, cracked a joke in her presence.

Hermione had been careful not to slip into her old habits when working with Snape. She still winced at the memory of the hug she had given him; she'd been mortified by her lack of control. For the first couple of days they had worked together, Hermione had kept up a constant mental litany of "he's not Severus." Luckily, it was getting easier to control her feelings when she was around him. If only it was as easy when she was alone…

That was another problem. Although she was happy working ten to twelve hours a day on her research, she still needed private time. Unfortunately, she couldn't quite convince Ron Weasley of that. Harry and Draco had left over a week ago, but Ron seemed reluctant to leave. While Hermione was glad to see him, his constant presence was beginning to wear on her a little. It would be okay if he visited occasionally, but he had taken to showing up at her quarters every night, and he wouldn't leave until close to midnight.

Hermione would have been glad to tell him to bugger off if not for the presence of Sophie. She had to admit that the little girl had grown on her, and she always felt a little better when Sophie was around. Hermione had always regretted never having children with Severus, now perhaps more than ever, but they had both agreed that bringing a child into their world would have been irresponsible. Being around Sophie at least gave her a taste of what she had missed.

Regardless, Hermione was now at the end of her rope. She really didn't know if she could take anymore calf-eyed gazes from Ron; besides, if she didn't get rid of him soon she'd never get any sleep.

Tonight would be the night, Hermione decided as she set up her lab. She was bone tired because Ron had stayed in her quarters till well past midnight last night. She had done and said everything short of being outright rude to get him to leave, but he simply hadn't listened.

She wouldn't hesitate to be rude tonight.

Bringing out her notes on the potion, Hermione wearily settled into her work. A few hours later, her eyes were drooping, and she was in serious danger of falling asleep.

"Drink this before you fall over." She was startled when Snape thrust a cup of coffee in front of her. She blissfully inhaled its aroma as she took a drink.

"I might need a Pepper-Up Potion before the day's over." She nodded her thanks to him before asking, "Are you done for today?"

"Yes," he said as he looked over her shoulder at her research for the day. "I see you didn't make much progress today."

Hermione glared at him. "I'm exhausted. I can't even keep my eyes open, let alone make sense of this nonsense."

"Hmm," Snape commented. "Perhaps if you didn't entertain Mr. Weasley into the early morning hours…"

Hermione gave Snape a searching look. "Been checking up on me?" she asked amusedly.

He sneered. "Far be it from me to interfere in your personal life."

"I'll have you know that I intend to remedy that particular problem tonight, anyway. Ron's getting to be a little annoying; I think it's mostly due to the fact that he doesn't seem to be able to take the hint that I want him to leave."

Snape gave a small bark of laughter. "Astounding. I never thought I'd live to see the day when Hermione Granger finally realized how annoying her friends really were."

Hermione glared at Snape. "Don't get me wrong. He's still my friend. Anyway, maybe you don't know me as well as you thought."

Snape sobered. Looking into her eyes he breathed, "Maybe I don't."

Hermione's heart pounded and she felt a jolt of desire course through her body. Snape's gaze was intent. She knew this look of desire intimately; she'd seen it often enough on her husband's face. Drawing in a shaky breath, Hermione tried to calm herself. "Snape, maybe we ought-"

"I think by now you would call me Severus." Hermione shuddered at the timbre of his voice.

"I…" Her voice broke. This was too much. If she called him Severus, the distance she so desperately needed between them would be broken.

"Hermione," Snape began, but it was too much for her. Memories of her husband arose unbidden, more intense than they had ever been since his death. She should have known working with Snape would be too much for her to bear.

"Please…" Her voice cracked with the strength of her emotion. Instead of retreating, Snape moved closer to her. When his hand cupped her elbow, she swayed towards him and, suddenly, she didn't care anymore. Stepping towards him, she raised her face. His arm slid to her waist and he looked down at her.

Hermione knew this was wrong but she couldn't stop. "Severus," she said huskily. Snape's eyes bore into her own as he lowered his head to hers-

And then he jerked back, releasing her. Hermione stumbled. "What-" she began.

"I'm sorry. That was…" Snape cleared his throat. Turning away from her, he gestured at her notes. "We should go over your work for the day."

Hermione stared at his back, bewildered and more than a little frustrated. She opened her mouth to speak, but paused. Actually, she should be relieved. She suddenly felt ashamed for her lapse. It was wrong of her to even consider kissing Snape so soon after Severus had died. Clearing her throat, she said, "Yes, of course. We should-"

She was interrupted when the door to the lab slammed open and Ron stumbled in. "Hermione, did you hear?"

Ignoring the glare Snape was giving Ron, Hermione made her way to Ron's side. "Ron, what are you doing here?"

"So you haven't heard then?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, more than a little confused. "Heard what?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley. Do tell us what's so important."

Ron glared at Snape. Turning back to Hermione, he continued, "Harry just Flooed me with the news. Vincent Crabbe was murdered."

Hermione looked at him like he'd grown another head. "And this would concern me how?"

"The Dark Mark was over his house."

Snape inhaled sharply and Hermione felt her knees go weak. "Oh, gods," she uttered. She heard Snape questioning Ron sharply, but she was too shocked to listen for the answers. "It has to be Lucius," she muttered. It had to be him; Albus had sworn all the Death Eaters were dead in this world.

Suddenly she noticed the silence in the room. She looked up to see Snape staring at her in shock. "What did you just say?" he asked menacingly.

Hermione stumbled back, frightened by the look in his eyes. "I didn't know if he'd come through for sure-"

"You brought Lucius Malfoy through with you?" He advanced on her until she was against the wall. Ron was rooted to the floor in shock; he made no move to assist her.

"I- I didn't know. I only remembered he'd been doused with the potion when I read about the murders in Diagon Alley in the _Daily Prophet_."

"And why haven't you mentioned this before?" Snape growled.

"I wasn't sure!" Hermione said shrilly.

He glared at her, and then grabbed her arm roughly. "The headmaster will need to be informed immediately, and I think you are just the person to tell him what you have done."

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story. Big things to come in Ch 11: Snape discovers Hermione's biggest secret and Hermione learns why the Dark Lord triumphed in her world.  
  
Thanks for all the great reviews! Big thanks to sophierom for her super fast turnaround on this chapter!  



	12. Ch11: The Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction

****

Ch 11: The Truth is Stranger Than Fiction

Snape cursed his weakness as he dragged Hermione to the headmaster's office. He couldn't believe how he had let his guard drop, pathetically coming to believe that she was sincere, that she posed no threat to the school. Now, after everything (not the least of which was the aborted kiss) he had learned of her lies.

Learned that she had brought a killer to this world.

The fact that the killer in question was none other than Lucius Malfoy was even harder for Severus to stomach. He shuddered at the memories of the cruelties Malfoy had inflicted upon this world; it was a cruel twist of fate that he, of all the Death Eaters, was allowed to return.

Severus had defeated Malfoy before and possibly could again if necessary. His mind drifted back to the last few moments of the Final Battle. Bitterly, he remembered that he had been too late to save Granger from Malfoy's curse. And though he had avenged her, her death still weighed heavily on his soul.

Ironic that she was responsible for her killer's reappearance in this world.

All thoughts of the past aside, Severus was half tempted to let Malfoy have the infuriating woman. He should never have allowed himself to trust her; inevitably, trusting people always led him to trouble. It was, oddly enough, the guilt over his inability to save this world's Hermione that had softened him towards this older version. Traitorously, his body reminded him of how perfect she had felt cradled against him mere moments ago; she had felt as though she had belonged there, molded to his side.

Brushing aside such traitorous thoughts, Severus glanced at the woman in question. She was trailing along beside him, occasionally stumbling in an attempt to keep up with his longer strides. He tightened his grip on her arm when she tripped and threatened to fall. He couldn't help but notice the looks of shock and fear on her face. Whether they were because of Malfoy or having to face the headmaster, Severus wasn't sure.

"Come along, Miss Granger. We shan't keep the headmaster waiting for the explanation as to why Lucius Malfoy had once again come to grace this world with his presence."

"Hey, wait up." Snape grimaced as he heard the youngest male Weasley's footfalls behind him. He had forgotten the redhead was there.

Severus stopped, tightening his grip on Hermione's arm when she didn't slow. He noted, with a pang of concern, that she was pale, her eyes wide and unseeing. Nor did she respond when he said her name. Brusquely pushing aside his concern, he turned his attention to Weasley.

"Your presence is no longer required, Mr Weasley. We will speak to the headmaster without you," Severus sneered.

As expected, Weasley's face grew red with fury. "You greasy-"

"Ron," Hermione said in a small voice, "He's right. You can't go with us."

Snape watched as Weasley cast a worried glance in his friend's direction. He must have noticed Snape's firm grip on her arm, because he asked, "Is he hurting you, Hermione? Because if he is…"

She shook her head tiredly. "I'm fine. Please… Just go."

Weasley looked at her doubtfully, but with a threatening sneer from Snape, must have thought better of questioning her further. He glared at Snape defiantly before turning his attentions back to Hermione.

"I'll go, but if he does anything to you tell me, hear?"

She nodded, giving him a small smile.

"Well, now that you are done reassuring your boyfriend that I'm not going to kill you, shall we?" Snape drawled.

Hermione, seemingly recovered from her earlier shock, glared at Snape. The looked lacked the ferocity that it normally carried, and Severus could easily tell that she was worried and on edge. Instead of retorting further, she merely shook herself free of his grip and turned her back to him.

They made their way to headmaster's office, Severus harshly shouting the password when he reached the statue. With mock politeness, he gestured for her to precede him. She swept ahead of him regally, but her façade crumbled upon seeing Albus. Severus scoffed at her apparent distress; he would not be so easily fooled by her act again.

"Headmaster, I believe Miss Granger has something she needs to tell you," Severus pronounced. Albus looked at him gravely before turning his attention to Hermione.

"This concerns the Dark Mark and Mr. Crabbe's death, I assume," he asked her gently.

Snape answered instead. "Yes, Albus. Miss Granger has information concerning her involvements in the killing." Albus sent him a look that quelled any further comment.

Severus grimaced, ignoring the headmaster and turning his attention to Hermione. He expected that she would be angry at his inference, but was again surprised to see only a tired resignation.

"Hermione," Albus asked again, "What do you know about Mr. Crabbe's murder?"

Both men watched as Hermione sat heavily into one of the office chairs. For a long moment, she was quiet. When she finally broke the silence, Severus couldn't help but be somewhat startled by the brittleness of her voice.

"Lucius was in the dungeons when I arrived from the battlefield. He taunted me, kept me from the potion. I knew he would kill me if I raised my wand, so I ran at him, knocking us both into the cauldron. Truthfully, I guess I had forgotten that he was drenched just as much as I was. How could I have known he was dragged through to this reality? He wasn't in the dungeons when I arrived."

Severus interrupted. "You said you knew he was here."

Hermione looked at him, eyes expressionless. "A few weeks ago, I read an article in the _Daily Prophet _about a rash of murders in Diagon Alley. One of the witnesses mentioned a man with cold grey eyes with a cane. I did consider that it might have been Lucius, but I wasn't sure. When I didn't hear anything more, I assumed I was simply seeing demons where none existed. I would have told you if I'd known for sure!" Her voice was desperate towards the end.

"Nonetheless, you should not have hidden even your suspicions from us. Do you have any idea how dangerous Lucius Malfoy is?" Snape yelled.

Hermione gave a strangled laugh. "Of course I do. He killed my husband and almost killed me!"

Snape glared. "Then you know that he won't stop until you are dead."

She sighed. "Yes, I know." Suddenly, the colour drained from her face. She whirled around to look at Albus and said, "He'll come after Severus when he discovers he's alive in this world. He might even assume that he's my husband." Albus's eyes widened at her slip and Hermione froze.

Severus felt as though time had slowed. As if in slow motion, he saw Hermione turn towards him, her face ashen and her eyes wide. His mind slowly began to put two and two together. In retrospect, he could see evidence of the truth: the way she acted around him, never intimidated; the way she admonished Albus for denying him the Defence position; the ease in which they had worked together over the past few weeks, almost as if she was used to working with him…

"What do you mean by that?" He asked quietly.

"A slip of the tongue, my boy," Albus started. Severus shot a glare his way that stopped him cold. Severus then turned his attention back to Hermione.

"Tell me what you meant. No more lies."

Her eyes slid shut, hiding the pain he had seen in them. Collapsing into a chair, she quietly said, "I was married to Severus Snape." She opened her eyes to look into his shocked stygian gaze. "I was your wife."

The words were undeniable, but Severus did not want to believe them. Suddenly, everything that had happened over the last few weeks seemed like a lie. Certainly, she had simply been using him as a replacement for her dead husband. He felt sickened by the thought. Even more now, he cursed his weakness; he should have never let himself begin to fall-

He didn't let himself finish that thought. It was too much to bear right now. He began to pace the study, occasionally sending a heated glare in her direction. She was tense, watching him with wary eyes. Angrily, Snape stepped in front of her.

"This had better not be a game, Granger," he growled.

Hermione's gaze bore into his own. She stood, causing Severus to take a step back. Her eyes were as hard as agates. "It's no lie. I was married to Severus for six years. He died moments before I came to this world."

Frustrated, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her towards him. He looked for any indication of a lie in her eyes. Instead, he found only truth and sorrow. He could feel her breath on his skin, feel the blood rushing through her veins, but he couldn't tear himself from her honest gaze.

Minutes passed in which the office was silent, Severus locked in place by her hazel eyes. Eventually, Albus cleared his throat.

Startled, Severus released Hermione. He whirled and stalked away from her. He stopped by one of the windows and gazed out it, lost in thought. He had been so tempted to use Legilimency on her; in fact he had sensed her desire for him to do so. He hadn't though; truthfully, Severus wasn't sure he could have handled what he would find there.

As through a tunnel, he heard Albus ask, "Hermione, how sure are you that Malfoy is the one committing these murders?"

She answered him gravely. "Nearly positive now that the Dark Mark has been sighted. Before I could have passed it off as coincidence, but with this new murder all the evidence points to Lucius."

"Why do you think he didn't appear when you did?" Albus asked.

"I'm not sure." Severus covertly cast a glance in her direction. Her brows were furrowed in thought, and he couldn't help but feel a little jealous towards his other self for having had this brilliant woman. After a few seconds, she continued, "Although, the original purpose of the potion was to transport the user to a place where they felt safe. It's possible he was transported to a more familiar location here. Possibly his manor or some other safe haven."

"It's possible," Severus mused. "Malfoy Manor has been closed for years. Draco had it shut and warded." He turned to look at Hermione, resolving to focus on the matter at hand. "Is it possible the potion could have over rid the warding?"

She nodded. "After all, I was transported inside Hogwarts despite the warding. The fact that I was there in the other reality may have had some bearing. I still think it's possible though."

He nodded. Turning to Albus, he said, "That's where we should start then. There may be evidence at the Manor that could lead us to him."

Albus shook his head. "I will pass this information along to the Aurors, Severus, but Hermione is right. You are in too much danger from Malfoy. He would kill you if he saw you."

Severus glared at him. "I've fooled him before and could do so again."

"Your position as a spy is too well known now, my boy. No doubt Lucius would have discovered your role in our victory over Voldemort."

Severus sighed. Albus was right, as much as he hated to admit it.

"Spy?" He heard Hermione ask. "What do you mean?"

Albus looked at her curiously. "Severus was a spy in Voldemort's camp for a number of years. His information about the attack at the end of Harry's seventh year was the reason we won the battle."

Snape glowered at the old man, who merely looked at him benignly.

"My husband was never a spy," Hermione said quietly. "We had no warning about the attack that day."

Albus laid a hand on her shoulder sympathetically.

Severus was surprised. "Was your husband never a Death Eater, then?" he finally asked.

"He was when he was younger," she said, "but the headmaster thought the risk would be too great for him to resume his spying activities when the Dark Lord arose in my fourth year. They figured his cover was already blown due to the incidents with Quirrel and Pettigrew."

Albus looked at Severus pointedly. "Now do you understand how truly important you contribution to the war was, my boy." The two men looked at each other intently before Snape finally bowed his head in a curt nod.

Albus continued, "And as such, I will not allow you to place yourself in danger further. You will remain inside the castle until the threat from Malfoy has been eliminated." He turned his attentions to Hermione. "The same goes for you as well. I recommend you both use this time to further your research into the Latere potion." He stood, moving towards the hearth. "I'm going the Ministry to speak with Arthur. I believe you two might need to discuss a few things so feel free to use my office to do so." And with that he Floo'ed away.

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A/N: This was a tough chapter to write. Hopefully, it doesn't disappoint too much. Next chapter: Severus and Hermione talk.

Thanks for all the great reviews! I'm glad you are liking the story. Big shout out to sophierom, my ever-patient beta!!


	13. Ch12: Of Spies and Husbands

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Chapter 12: Of Spies and Husbands

Hermione's mind was still reeling when Albus Floo'ed away, leaving her with a very surly looking Severus Snape. Eyeing him warily, she moved to the other side of the small office. She needed some time to think before she could confront him.

At the forefront of her chaotic thoughts was the shocking revelation that the Severus of this world had been a spy. Her Severus had never been a spy, and their world had suffered because of it. She shook her head. It wasn't fair to lay complete responsibility on Severus; surely there must have been other factors involved in her world's downfall.

But the more she thought about it, the less she could deny the truth. Through her conversations with Harry and Ron, she had learned that her world and this one had been nearly identical up to the attack at the end of her seventh year. Hermione was positive that, if they had been warned, they could have defeated the Dark Lord. They weren't warned though; they'd no spy in the Dark Lord's presence, no way of knowing what it was he planned.

Hermione sighed. Risking a quick glance at Snape, she couldn't help but think how unfair fate had been to this man. As a spy, she knew that he must have faced too many horrors to count; there was little doubt that he had suffered for it. Suddenly, many things about this Snape became much clearer to her. She had wondered at his bitterness, not having ever seen it to such an extent in her husband. But now she could understand. This Snape had no one to confide in, that she could see, other than Albus Dumbledore. She could tell that he was ostracized by many of the people around him, despite the fact that he was clearly a hero.

On the other hand, her husband, while surrounded by friends and happily married to her, had been treated cruelly by fate as well. He had often told her, in the strictest of confidences, that he felt useless to the war effort. After Dumbledore had rejected his offer to spy, he had been relegated to brewing medical potions for the hospital. She had seen his depression grow year after year. Even with his formidable duelling skills, he wasn't allowed to participate in the many battles that took place because he was simply too tempting a target for the Dark Lord.

She cursed fate for its cruelness to Severus Snape.

"Miss Granger," Snape said, coming to her side.

"You know, I haven't been a Granger in a long time." Hermione turned to look at him, hoping she could get through this discussion with her dignity intact.

He glared at her. "I'm hardly going to address you as Mrs. Snape," he spat, seemingly disgusted by the idea.

Hermione sighed, gesturing towards the seats in front of the fire. Once they were seated, she replied, "You could call me Hermione, you know. You didn't seem to have any trouble doing so earlier."

His eyebrow quirked. "Earlier today you didn't seem too eager for me to use your first name. Nor did you seem to want to use mine."

She blushed, remembering his arms around her. All that seem liked a life time ago. She looked at him apologetically. "I am sorry about that. You probably think that I'm just using you are a replacement for Sever- uh, my husband."

He snorted. "The thought had crossed my mind." He silenced her with a glare when she started to protest. "But I've had some time to think." He was silent for a moment, and soon stood and began to pace. "You must understand that this is a difficult situation for me. I do not trust people easily and yet I found myself, against all reason, beginning to trust you. Only to learn that you were lying to me all along."

Hermione jumped to her feet. "I did not lie to you!" she shouted. She took a couple of deep breaths before continuing more calmly, "It's been so hard being around you. For the first couple of weeks I was here, you were a constant reminder of all that I had lost. You are so much like Severus." Her voice broke a little. "But you are also very different. I don't see you as a replacement. These last few weeks I thought we'd even begun to become friends. I'm sorry about keeping the information about Malfoy from you, but I really thought I was wrong about him being here." She looked at him pleadingly, trying to make him understand that she was being honest.

His gaze was inscrutable. "Like I was saying," he admonished, causing Hermione to blush in embarrassment. "I've had some time to think and I've realized that you never said or did anything that should make me think you were anything other than sincere." He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture Hermione instantly recognized as a sign of nervousness. "I'm not a nice man, Hermione." She snorted in agreement, earning her a glare. "Nor do I trust people easily. There's something I need to know before we continue."

Hermione sat up a little straighter, sensing his seriousness. "Anything," she said.

He looked at her with piercing eyes. "Why did you marry him?"

She gasped at the blunt question, surprised that he would risk himself by asking such a loaded question. Shocked by the undercurrent of vulnerability in his eyes, she knew she would need to tread carefully in answering him; his trust in her hinged on it.

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Severus was beginning to wonder if he wasn't getting soft in the head. He couldn't believe that he had just asked her such an idiotic question. What did it matter why she had married the other Snape?

Still, he couldn't help but wonder.

She was standing again, looking at him with pity in her eyes. He felt disgusted by that look. The last thing he needed was her pity.

"Never mind," he bit out, turning to leave.

"Severus," she said softly, halting him in his tracks. He closed his eyes as her voice washed over him. "I don't know if I can tell you why I married him," she said quietly. He nodded curtly, and moved again to leave.

Suddenly, she was beside him, her hand on his arm. He stopped and slowly turned to her, expression guarded.

"I can't tell you, but I can show you," she said hesitantly.

He was astounded. He knew that she wanted him to use Legilimency to see her past with the other Severus. It was exactly what he had feared to do earlier. Seeing them together would only serve to show him what he didn't have in this life.

Severus shrugged her hand off his arm. He couldn't believe how pathetic he was being, begging this woman to give him a glimpse of another man's life. He was content with his life; he didn't need her or anyone else to be satisfied. Did he?

"Please, Severus," she pleaded. "I… I think you need to see this. If we're going to be working together…" She lifted her chin and looked at him boldly. "If we're going to be _friends_, you need to know."

Suddenly, Severus felt the need to take her in his arms and never let her go. She truly was an amazing woman. He searched her face again for signs of pity, but this time, he saw none.

Grimly, he nodded and stepped closer. Almost gingerly, he grasped her chin and looked into her eyes.

"_Legilimens_," he whispered.

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"Miss Granger, perhaps you'd like to explain what you are doing in my lab without permission."

Hermione jumped, surprised by Snape's silent entry. "The Headmaster said I could use your labs-"

"With my permission," he reminded her.

"Well, yes. But you weren't here and Madam Pomfrey needed this potion-"

He silenced her with a wave of his hand. "Don't assume, just because you are no longer a student, that you now have free reign of the castle," he snarled.

Hermione bristled. "I'm not some first year that you can order around anymore, Professor. We're in this war together and I expect some respect from you."

Snape sneered. "Respect. And what, pray tell, have you done to earn my respect?"

"I have risked my life countless times in this war and-"

"Ah, yes. Along with the illustrious Potter and Weasley."

Hermione gasped, wounded by his words. "Don't you dare insult Ron's memory like that," she hissed.

For a moment, Snape looked abashed, but he quickly recovered. "Indeed. My… apologies."

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"Miss Granger!" Snape shouted.

Hermione gritted her teeth, setting aside the book she had, up until Snape's interruption, been enjoying. "Yes," she ground out.

Snape swooped down on her like a dark angel. "You were supposed to meet me in the lab two hours ago. If you are serious about this apprenticeship-"

"You said to meet at four o'clock. It's clearly only just three, now," Hermione quipped.

Snape glared at her. He opened his mouth to speak but a shrieking in the air silenced him.

Hermione looked at Snape in shock. The shrieking was the alarm the headmaster had designed to warn of Death Eater attack. Snape grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her to his side. "Come with me," he yelled over the noise.

He dragged her out of the Library, brandishing his wand. "Stay close," he said. Hermione pulled her own wand out, nervously looking around for any signs of danger.

Suddenly, a hooded figure emerged from the shadows, a hex already emanating from its wand. Snape stepped in front of Hermione. In a flash of red light, he absorbed the hex, shielding her from its destruction.

"Severus," she cried. As he fell to the ground, Hermione stunned the Death Eater and bound him. She fell to her knees beside the prone figure of the Potions Master. "Severus," she whispered. She slipped her fingers under the collar of his robe to find a pulse. It was still strong and she sobbed in relief.

He began to stir. His eyes fluttered open and Hermione gasped at the emotion she saw in them. "Hermione," he rasped, his fingers shakily brushing her cheek. "Are you alright?"

She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her cheek. "Yes. Because of you, I'm fine." She stared in wonder at her former Professor as the first stirrings of love entered her heart.

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The ground was covered in a heavy blanket of snow. Hermione stood shrouded in her cloak, a pensive look on her face.

"What are you doing out here, love?" Severus asked, stepping out of the double doors of Hogwarts and moving to her side. He wrapped his arms around her and settled his chin on top of her head.

She snuggled back into his warmth. "I just needed some fresh air," she said.

He turned her around in his arms, looking down on her in admonishment. "You know it's not safe for you to be out here alone. If you were restless you should have found me."

She sighed. "I know. I just needed to think."

Severus grunted, turning them both back to the castle. As they stepped back inside he turned to her. "You must be careful. I don't know what I would do if I lost you." He gave her a soul-searing kiss. Breathless, she pulled away and smiled at him.

"I love you too, Severus."

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He was yelling at her again and it was starting to get a little old.

"I can take care of myself, Snape. I don't need you or anyone else telling me what to do," she said furiously, sending him a scathing look that would rival any of his own.

Albus coughed, catching the attention of the two seething occupants of his office. "Perhaps you two should discuss this alone." He moved to leave the office, but not before adding, "And at a more reasonable volume."

When he was gone, Severus whirled towards Hermione again. "You foolish girl. Your Gryffindor tendencies are going to get you killed."

She scoffed at him. "I was with Harry. I was perfectly safe. I'm sick of you treating me like an invalid."

"Oh, yes. Safe with the great Harry Potter. It never occurred to you that you were only making yourself a bigger target by going with him?" Severus was yelling again, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"I can't just stay in this castle and do nothing. I feel useless," she yelled.

"Well, isn't that unfortunate," he spat disgustedly.

Hermione felt her anger drain away when Severus turned away from her. Hesitantly, she laid her hand on his shoulder. "I didn't mean that," she whispered. "You're not useless, Severus. We need you. I need you."

He didn't look at her. "You don't need me, Hermione. You've proven that time and time again. You won't allow me to protect you. You take chances with your life with no regard for me- for anyone."

Hermione felt desperation well up inside of her. "I do need you," she cried. "More than anything. You are my only reason for hope in these times. Severus," she begged.

He turned, searching her face. "If you say you need me then you're going to have to let me protect you. It's the only thing I can do for this damn war effort. Will you let me do that, Hermione?"

She nodded, tears in her eyes. He hugged her to him tightly. For a few moments they stood together, drawing strength from one another. Soon, Severus dipped his head towards her ear. "Marry me," he whispered to her.

She gasped and pulled away from him. His face was unguarded and she saw, for the first time, the full measure of his devotion to her. She smiled brilliantly and whispered, "Yes, my love. Yes."

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More memories assaulted him: glimpses of naked flesh and quiet nights by the fire. There were many memories of Snape and Hermione in the potions lab, working together flawlessly. The images swirled together to paint a picture of their lives together.

Severus was overwhelmed by their intensity. He could see, even feel, the love between them. He could no longer deny his jealousy towards his other self. He had truly had everything that Severus wanted for himself.

He couldn't watch anymore. He prepared to leave her mind, when he was suddenly hit with another memory.

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The battle was fierce. The headmaster had already fallen and Harry was mortally wounded. In anguish, Hermione surveyed the battlefield even as she deflected another curse. Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of Severus. She could see that he was hard pressed by several Death Eaters.

She stunned the Death Eater she was duelling with and desperately fought to make her way to her husband. "Severus!" she yelled. With little regard to her own safety, she cast hex after hex at the black-cloaked figures around her. Even as she ran, she could tell she would be too late to save him.

In the pale light, she saw the Death Eater in front of Severus drop his hood and throw off his mask. There was no mistaking that profile for anyone other than Lucius Malfoy. Severus glared at him defiantly as Lucius taunted him.

Hermione saw Lucius raise his wand. "NO!" she screamed, her eyes begging Severus to do something. She vaguely felt a hex slice into her side, causing her to stumble, but her eyes never left Severus'. "Please," her gaze begged him. He just shook his head. "Go," he mouthed. "Use the potion." She couldn't hear him, but she understood.

Her heart broken, she turned to leave as he collapsed to the ground in a wash of green light.

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Severus gasped, tearing his gaze away from the sobbing Hermione. He fell into the chair and tried to control the whirl of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. The vision of his own death had unnerved him more than he cared to admit, and suddenly, he didn't feel much jealousy towards his counterpart.

He dropped his head into his hands. Smoothing his hands through his hair, he rubbed at the knots in his neck. He could still hear Hermione sobbing, but couldn't face her yet. The images he had seen of her life were burned into his mind. He needed to separate himself from them before going to her.

Vaguely, he wondered if that could have been his life if only this world's Hermione had lived.

He chastised himself for thinking such thoughts. He had no right to covet anther man's life. Ironically, he felt pity for his counterpart, stuck at Hogwarts, unable to contribute in the battle against the Dark Lord. And, in the end, that man had died, his world defeated and his wife on the run.

Suddenly, Severus' life didn't seem so bad. He was, after all, alive, the Dark Lord was dead and… he had Hermione.

Severus raised his head to look at her. She was slumped on the floor, arms curled around her knees, shaking in silent sobs. He didn't know if it was because of the memories he had just witnessed or because of his own emotions, but he swore that he would do everything in his power to see that she didn't suffer anymore.

He stood and walked to her. She sniffled and raised her head, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. She began to struggle to her feet but stopped in shock when Severus dropped to his knees before her.

He raised his hand and wiped the tears from her cheek. Cradling her head in his hand, he grazed his thumb over her smooth skin. "I know I'm not him, Hermione, but…" He gave her a slight smile, leaving the rest unsaid.

Her sorrowful eyes searched his in disbelief. Suddenly, she smiled and Severus felt his heart thud painfully. "No, you're not," she whispered, bringing a shaky hand to his face. Her face took on a look of wonder. "You're…" She shook her head and smiled. He held his breath, waiting for her to continue.

She didn't continue, though. Instead she carded her hand through his hair, pulling his head closer to hers. She rested her forehead on his and, for a moment, simply stayed that way. Severus' own hands came up to cradle her head. Suddenly unsure, he pulled back a little. "Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded. "Are you?"

He didn't answer but lowered his mouth to hers instead. The kiss was hesitant, questioning. Again, Severus pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were closed, and her face was peaceful. When she opened her eyes, he could see only happiness in them, no pity or revulsion.

"Well?" he drawled.

"You're not him," she replied seriously but with a hint of a smile in her eyes.

"I know." He smirked and kissed her again.

* * *

A/N: This was definitely a hard chapter to write. I hope you've enjoyed it, though, and that it lives up to your expectations. No rest for the wicked, though. Our hero and heroine still have to deal with Malfoy. And how is Ron going to react to the budding relationship?

Big thanks to everyone for your kind reviews. They really keep this review-junkie happy!

All hail my wonderful beta, sophierom, without whom you would be made to suffer my typos and run-on sentences.


	14. Ch13: Committee

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Chapter 13: Committee

Not surprisingly, Albus arrived shortly after their second kiss. It was proof positive of a belief Severus had long held: Albus Dumbledore had terrible timing.

"Ah-hem," Albus said, brushing soot from his robes and twinkling madly, "I see your discussion went well."

Reluctantly, Severus drew his lips away from Hermione's. She blushed, ducking behind Severus to compose herself. Severus allowed himself a small smile at her embarrassment. He straightened, gazing levelly at Albus.

"Quite well," he said with a glare. "What did you learn at the Ministry?"

The headmaster's face grew grave. "Arthur was quite concerned. He wants to speak to Hermione."

Hermione, composed again, emerged from behind Severus and asked, "What did he want to know?"

Albus gestured for them to sit, then called for tea. Once they were all comfortably seated around his desk, tea in hand, he began to speak. "Arthur is concerned about what Malfoy may do, naturally. But he is also concerned about the consequences this may have for Hermione."

Severus bristled at that statement. Tensely he asked, "What exactly do you mean by consequences?"

Albus sighed again. "The Aurory is insistent that Hermione acted as Malfoy's accomplice. Personally, I think it's more an issue of them trying to place blame to cover their own incompetence."

Hermione angrily jumped to her feet and began to pace. "You know I would _never _help Malfoy-"

"Of course, my dear," Albus said gently. "And you know that Arthur does not believe that either. To that end, Arthur and I have decided to call a meeting here at Hogwarts to discuss how to proceed concerning Malfoy." He stood, stretching to ease the kinks from his back. "I would suggest you try to get some rest now. The meeting will be later tonight and I've no doubt it will continue until quite late."

Trying to ingnore his mounting tension headache, Severus gave Albus a quick nod, grasped the still furious Hermione by her elbow and led her out of the office. He allowed himself a small smile at her grumbles as they made their way back to his dungeon.

When he reached the lower levels, he gave her a speculative look; her agitation was fairly clear and he knew they wouldn't get any more work done for the day. Not only did they need to deal with the Ministry and Malfoy, there was also still the need to discuss the memories he had shared with her.

Not to mention the kiss.

As he lowered the wards to his private rooms, Severus shook his head in disgust. Even a couple of weeks ago he would have never considered having a discussion of _any _sort with Hermione. Certainly not one about relationships. It was a sure sign of how deeply she had gotten under his skin.

Once inside, Severus hastily lit a fire and settled the now quiescent Hermione into one of the armchairs in front of it. The silence in the room was broken only by the occasional crack of the fire and the sounds of Severus making tea.

"Do you…" Hermione started to say, but trailed off with a frown.

Severus looked at her speculatively. "Do I what?" he asked with a slight sneer to his tone.

She answered with a slight sneer of her own. "I've had six years to learn to deal with that tone of voice. I think you'll find it's less than effective on me."

He merely quirked an amused eyebrow in her direction though the reminder of her past with the other Severus left him a little uneasy.

Hermione snorted, then sighed. "Do you… do _you _think I helped Malfoy?"

Severus sat forward in his chair, frankly a bit surprised at the question. He searched her face for a moment before answering. "I think that Albus is right. They are simply looking for a scapegoat and, in this case, you are the most attractive suspect." He took her hand in his and waited until she looked up at him. "Albus and Arthur will deal with the Aurors, Hermione. You needn't worry about anything. Focus instead on the potion."

He watched her intently as she processed his words. Finally she gave him a small smile and said, "Of course. You're right." Wearily she stood. After giving his hand a small squeeze then dropped it. "I know we need to… talk," she said quietly, "but I'm just so tired."

He waved a dismissive hand in her direction. "Say no more. Go back to your quarters and rest. You'll need your stamina for the meeting tonight." He took a small step towards her, bringing a tentative hand to her cheek. "We can talk later."

She smiled, a genuine, nearly heartbreaking smile. "Thank you for understanding." She rested her hand briefly over his hand on her face, then turned to leave.

Even after she had left, her presence remained. This time, Severus didn't mind the intrusion at all.

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Hermione stared at her reflection with no small amount of trepidation. Her face was sleep-lined and her hair was beyond control. Dreading the meeting she would soon need to leave for, she splashed a little cold water onto her face and wrestled her hair into a tight knot.

Finally, she felt a little more human. Unfortunately, as her fatigue faded, her nerves reasserted themselves. She had had little time up until now to dwell on what had happened between her and Severus- and _Severus _he now was. She could no longer deny the attraction and desire, possibly even love, she had for him. And yet, she couldn't help but feel unfaithful. How could she even be contemplating another relationship so soon after her husband's death?

On the other hand, how could she not, considering the object of her affections.

It was a sticky situation, and while Hermione knew that this Severus was not just a replacement for her husband, a traitorous little voice in the back of her head continued to voice doubt. After all, she probably wouldn't have even considered Severus if not for the remembered feelings he sparked within her.

She shook her head. It wouldn't do to dwell on the complexities of her situation right now. She needed to focus on the situation with Malfoy. She couldn't deny the considerable danger that both she and Severus were now in. Lucius had always loathed Severus and wouldn't pass by a chance to kill him… again.

She was startled from her reverie by a knock at her door. She tensed, hoping it wasn't Severus. While she didn't regret what had transpired between them- but don't you, the little voice niggled- she wasn't exactly up to seeing him right now. They would need to talk, of course, just… later.

Opening the door, she nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was only Ron.

"How are you?" he asked, giving her a searching look.

She sighed. Gesturing for him to come in and have a seat, she explained, "No worse for the wear, as you can see. My discussion with the headmaster went quite well, and Sev- Snape didn't hex me."

He snorted. "Wouldn't put it past the bastard," he muttered under his breath. Hermione wisely ignored the comment. "So," he continued, "Dumbledore has called a meeting tonight. Any idea if it's about Malfoy?"

"It…is," she said haltingly. Ron gave her a questioning look. She settled a little heavier into her chair before answering. "The Aurors think I helped Malfoy come here. Your father is trying to hold them off from questioning me."

He jumped to his feet and began to pace. Hermione, used to his frequent outbreaks of kinetic energy, bided her time and settled in for what would no doubt be a spectacular rant.

"Of all the… What the hell are they thinking? How can you…" His comments continued for several minutes as he cursed everyone from the Ministry to Malfoy. Finally, he pushed a frustrated hand through his hair and sat again.

"I swear to you, Mione, I won't let them near you."

Hermione sat up, startled at his vehemence. _Dangerous ground, girl_, she commented to herself. She could literally feel the possessive waves rolling off of him and was reminded, yet again, that she still needed to deal with his attraction towards her. She would need to tread carefully and would certainly need to find a way to curb his protective instinct. After all, Severus didn't need both Malfoy _and _Ron trying to kill him.

"That's very kind," she said brusquely. Standing, she moved to grab her robe. She slipped it on and gestured for Ron to precede her to the door. Before she could exit, she found herself in a tight embrace. She tensed, then slowly made herself relax. He was just trying to comfort her, she reassured herself.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you again," Ron whispered into her ear. He clung to her tightly and Hermione felt smothered by his touch. Gently, she disentangled herself from him.

"Ah, yes. Well, we'd best get to the meeting to make sure that's never an issue." She tried to summon a brave smile, but the flare in Ron's eyes made her falter.

"Yes," he mumbled as they left. "Let's make sure that never happens."

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The headmaster's office was already bustling with activity when Hermione and Ron arrived. Hermione glanced around anxiously for Severus, but he didn't appear to be present yet. She grudgingly allowed Ron to maneuver her into the chair next to his and managed not to sigh when he moved his chair snugly against her own.

She should have felt flattered at his protective attitude; she really just felt annoyed. Severus had never, nor would he ever, assume that she needed protection. It was one of the most attractive things about him.

And when the subject of her thoughts entered the room, still as stoic and sullen as ever, she felt all her trepidations about their situation dissolve. She loved this man- _this _man, she firmly told the little voice- and knew that they would deal with whatever was to come together.

Feeling much better for the revelation, she flashed Severus a brilliant smile, to which he responded with a sardonically quirked eyebrow. He sent a questioning glance in Ron's direction and Hermione shrugged and rolled her eyes. He seemed to understand, giving her a small smirk as he settled into the seat nearest the headmaster's desk.

A rustle of noise from the doorway diverted her attention from Severus. Albus, Draco and Harry had entered, and the room quieted in anticipation of the meeting beginning. While Albus made his way to his desk, Harry went to Hermione's side.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, pulling a chair to her side. She nodded distractedly, noticing the cold look on Draco's face. Seated next to Harry, he kept sending sharp looks in her direction. She wondered if he believed her to be an accomplice to his father.

"I'm glad you could all make it on such short notice," Albus said. "I'm sure most of you are aware of the reports of Lucius Malfoy-" There were a number of agitated grumbles heard around the room. Albus raised a hand to silence them. "I am sad to say that they are true."

This time, outright shouts and curses could be heard. Hermione winced, keeping her gaze focused resolutely on her hands.

"How is this possible, Albus?" she heard someone say. Various voices demanded an answer to the question as well.

Eventually the room quieted, although the air remained tense. "Perhaps I shouldn't be the one to explain," Albus said. Hermione's head shot up and she went cold. Silently, she tried to beg the headmaster to explain; she wasn't sure she could face the crowd right now.

Fate must have been smiling down on her, or at least Albus Dumbledore was, because he turned to Severus. "Severus, I believe you said you could explain to us."

Hermione gave Severus a grateful look which he dutifully ignored. He stood, quieting the crowd with a glare. In a quiet, steady voice, he began to speak of Hermione's reappearance and their subsequent work on the potion together. Finally, he told them of Lucius's attack on her and how he came to be affected by the potion. When he finished, the room was deathly still.

And then, all hell broke loose.

Nearly every person in the room was on his or her feet, peppering the Potions master with questions. Harry gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before moving to assist Dumbledore with the crowd.

Draco and Hermione were left sitting quietly together.

"Why didn't you tell me my father was back?" Draco asked Hermione quietly, but loudly enough to be heard over the din. She risked a glance at him and immediately noticed the pale, pinched look on his face. Her heart clenched in her chest.

"I didn't know, Draco." He looked dubious. "I'm being honest, Draco. If I'd have known…" her voice failed her. She couldn't stand the accusation in his eyes. She heard him sigh as he stood and walked away.

Hermione's guilt for the pain she was causing, however unintentionally, was eating away at her. She understood, all too well, the damage that Lucius could do to this world. Already, he had killed countless innocents; she didn't doubt that some killings had gone unreported by the media. Now, he would come for her and Severus, not to mention his son and anyone else he viewed as an obstacle or traitor.

The room was still loud with the various arguments and speculations going on, so only Hermione, who was seated next to the fireplace, noticed when the Floo glowed green. She was also the only one who noticed the letter that flew from it and landed on the floor.

Uneasy, she reached a shaky hand out and picked up the letter. Inexplicably, it was addressed to her.

Her dread grew as she hesitantly broke the seal.

Inside it read: _We shall meet again soon, Mrs. Snape._

She didn't have to guess who it was from.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for being such a big slacker. Hopefully this will tide you over. As always, thanks for all the great reviews! Big thanks to sophierom for betaing and putting up with my slacker self. 


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